Harry Potter and the Turn of the Shrew
by Suekeiichi Kaiton
Summary: Harry is thrown thirty years into the past during the Horcrux Hunt and decides to enact sweeping changes with the help of the gorgeous Black Sisters. No longer uploading teaser chapters, chapter five now up! Read and Review! Incomplete but In Progress...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Literally none of this is mine except the sexy parts…

Author's Notes 08/12/12:

First off I'd like to thank the readers that liked this story enough to add it to their notifications. Truthfully I didn't think much of this drabble when it first flew out of my head – I figured it was the result of too much of Lord Silvere's excellent "Delenda Est" and "Harry Potter and the Future Remapped" by Shezza88. For some strange reason I've been reading a lot of Potter-cest fics lately and frankly the ones where Harry gets sent back to Marauder Times and forms a romantic/sexual relationship with his mother are intriguing. I like the openness of time travel fics (in this Delenda Est particularly excels in) and thought I'd try my hand at one. For those readers who've already read the first posting this is an edited version so I can break it down into chapters. So this first chapter may be the road already travelled for most of you but there have been edits made, spelling mistakes corrected, and the egregious situation of Harry's glasses has been addressed.

Next off I'd like to let you all know that this story is not going to be one with quick updates. I'm in the midst of refining my original fiction (thanks DragonBard!) which is currently on FictionPress under the title "Penny Deadful and The Caul of Darkness" into something that doesn't scream Harry Potter fanfiction, maybe just "The Caul of Darkness" – still, thoughts for another time. There's a lot going on with that story at the moment and since it may become something I can actually make money on I've gotta try and make it better than what it appears to be so updates to this fic will be slow in coming. But work is being done! Good and insightful reviews or PMs with ideas help fuel the creative fires that burn my imagination onto the page (or website as the case may be)! Fans of The Wandering Saotome, or Wanderings, will be pleased to know that my original fiction deals with that fantasy world so I urge you to give it a try.

Now enough of the shameless plugs! I might be posting an incomplete Harry Potter fanfic I started before this although I have no intentions of continuing it sometime in the near future. Just so you guys know: fic up for adoption! Also, I pulled "Evangelical History" and "A Continuation Gone Too Far" out of mothballs so new chapters of both fics might be forthcoming. Enjoy this fresh edit and let me know what you all think about what's here and what you think might happen in the future. Pairings are still really up in the air – mostly dependent on if Harry ends up trapped in the past or succeeds in returning to the future. So all of you who want Harry to become Draco's father you might be disappointed.

Suekeiichi Kaiton, August 12, 2012

o0OoO0o

He fell into a cesspool close with the smell of effluent and smashed his forehead on the cobblestone bottom, swearing loudly into the fetid water. That was a mistake as his palate and head filled with tastes he'd rather not investigate any further than the fact that he found the experience repellant. Rising quickly to free himself from the icy embrace of sewage he vomited and spat for several minutes before wiping slime from his eyes in disgust. He'd lost his glasses in the fall from…wherever it was he'd fallen from…and the thought of sifting through the solid waste collecting around his ankles was not one he particularly relished. It was good luck within bad luck that his wand was already broken so it wasn't like anything valuable could have been destroyed in his short drop with a sharp stop.

It was dark, wherever it was, and cold like the dead of winter although such cold days were no longer uncommon even in spring or fall during the Dark Lord's reign. He stood motionless, letting the filth drip and slide off his soiled travelling cloak and Muggle clothes. Squatting down in the sewage (an action that brought an unbidden smile to his wan face) he skimmed the stones for his glasses then - deciding that since he was already covered in shit it didn't matter – got down on hands and knees in his search. Shortly they were back on his face although covered in pungent substances the likes of which it had never before been smeared with…and he remembered quite a few extracurricular afternoons cleaning up after Hagrid's pets. Thankfully they weren't broken just a little bent. Next was cleaning himself up and finding out where by Morgana's icy tit he was now! Decision made, Harry James Potter trudged through the thick and thin current of shit and piss towards the faint daggers of light down a long dark tunnel.

The light came from four holes in a manhole cover. Remembering just what was going on outside the Forest of Dean before his abnormal materialization in shit he climbed the metal ladder slowly and lifted the cover only high enough to peek over the edge.

It was snowing outside and he could faintly hear the sound of multiple footfalls on stone. He was in a city. The manhole seemingly opened out into a dank and narrow alley between tall spindly buildings. He slithered out and peered around, wand at the ready, before resealing the cover and sitting down on a wood box in the corner beside a dumpster. First things first: find out where he was, clean himself up, then he could worry about finding Hermione…and Ron as well he supposed. The latter's painful departure and abrupt return still rankled him more than it showed on his face but his once-best-friend did help him retrieve Gryffindor's sword from the bottom of the lake. Truthfully that meant very little compared to all the harm Ron had inflicted upon not just him but also Hermione since first year so the help getting the Founders' Heirloom out of a frozen body of water didn't even wipe way a quarter the karmic debt owed.

Mother of Merlin! The Horcrux! The locket, what happened to it? He was about to strike it with the sword when he blacked out and awoke face down in the sewer. He had to hurry and find out what was going on! He was so angry at Ron he wasn't thinking about what he'd been doing before this unexplained jump.

Casting several wandless _scourgify_ and _aguamenti_ charms followed by drying spells he felt cleaner but he doubted that anything save fifty hot showers was ever going to make him feel truly clean again. He thanked Hermione's foresight in demanding he practice wandless since the beginning of the year since he honestly didn't think he'd ever lose his wand. Now he didn't stink to high hell and it was all thanks to his favorite tightly-wound ball of bossiness, intelligence, and sexual tension. Looking down at himself he realized he really looked the picture of "Undesirable Number One" as the Prophet called him; torn Muggle shirt, torn Muggle jeans, bent glasses, and torn old cloak. He'd have to figure out where he was first then find some way to get newer clothing. He immediately regretted dropping the invisibility cloak by the lake now. Being invisible would've made his escape from the city much easier.

The alleyway narrowed even further the closer he got to the end, bottlenecking a frigid wind blowing down the main street he was quickly approaching. Harry cast a warming charm on his cloak and squeezed through the opening. Glancing quickly around, he saw an odd witch or wizard wandering around the street and shops. At least he wasn't thrown around the world into a Muggle city. Or perhaps that would have been safer – Muggles weren't trying to kill him and drag his lifeless corpse before a monstrous simulacrum of snake and man. He eased into the flow of foot traffic and realized that it was Draunkurn Alley, a little ways off Knockturn, home to the Wizarding World's red light district. Seeing as it appeared to be early afternoon it was no surprise there weren't many 'customers' around.

He was really screwed now. Here he was, Harry 'Undesirable Number One' Potter smack dab in the middle of British Wizarding government's largest magical city with no wand, no back-up, and no idea how he got there! When I fuck things up, he ruefully thought, I fuck them up big-time!

Still, it wouldn't do to just give up, it wasn't the Potter way. Quickly he cast three disguises, one on his scar, one on his hair, and one on his face. Then he transfigured his cloak into a long evening robe, which wouldn't last very long, and looked into one of the windows. The man looking back at him bore more than a slight resemblance to Sirius Black but otherwise would pass for a nondescript wizard wandering the Alley. Unfortunately his analysis also drew the attention of the witch posing on the other side of the glass. She giggled, taking his close observation as an interested one, and shed her top. He turned away as she leaned forward to better display her bare chest before turning back (he had to look the part of someone in this type of place and his teenage hormones appreciated the view) and smiling shyly. Apparently his smile amused the propositioning witch as she blew him a kiss and waved him off.

Even less than fifteen minutes after bathing in raw sewage Harry Potter was still a charmer.

Straightening imperiously he schooled his features into a stern frown and walked briskly to the entrance to Knockturn Alley. There were far more people there and a crowd streamed back and forth from the dingy section to Diagon. His disguise had to be foolproof if he wanted to make it to the apparition point and find his friends. Oh, and figure out what the hell happened to the locket.

He pushed past Borgin & Burkes and out to Diagon Alley with the haste of a shopper who realized he left his money pouch on the benches outside Florean Fortesque's. Aurors/Snatchers were nowhere to be seen, an observation that set him on edge, and the people seemed a little too free in their movements. He wouldn't put it past Riddle to engineer this whole situation just to lull him into a false sense of security. Getting his Ministry lackeys to _imperious_ a group of people to play shoppers down a dressed-up Diagon Alley was just the sort of sick trap the Dark Lord would lay. Harry noticed the Christmas decorations hung along the storefronts and wondered how his planning went so wrong – Christmas was almost six months ago.

He may be in the middle of a horrible trap but it would be more than foolish to not take advantage of it and try to get to Gringotts, after all where could be safer than neutral ground? Assuming of course that the goblins hadn't taken up with Riddle... Somehow Harry doubted that. There was no profit in a war between wizards and ol' Snake Face couldn't risk the goblins freezing his assets. Their supplies had been dwindling even with Hermione's bag and the tents prodigious enlarged pantry and galleons were galleons…

He made his way up the stairs and into the enormous marble building. He didn't notice a black cloaked figure follow him through the great doors.

The lines of tellers and snaking lines of wizards looked normal and Harry couldn't help but question the viability of controlling so many witches and wizards just to fool him. Still, goblins were dangerous folk and he felt certain that the bank had defenses in place in some foolish Death Eater even tried to put the _imperious_ curse on any goblin.

"I'd like to make a withdrawal from the Black Vault." He stepped up to one of the seven tellers specifically placed for the more 'prestigious' customers. Normally Harry wouldn't have used one but he needed to get in and get out before the Snatchers arrived or, worst case scenario, Voldemort himself.

The goblin sneered down at the presumptuous human meat-sack. "And do you have your key?"

"I have this," Harry pulled the Black Family Ring from an inner pocket of his robe and slid it on his left middle finger, "will this suffice?" He hoped it would. In truth he didn't even know if it was the Family Ring but Kreacher's affection for it seemed to indicate it was more than just a personal piece of jewelry.

It was a credit to the goblin fortitude that the teller made no outward sign of his astonishment. "Very well, Lord Black, please follow me."

Sighing inwardly, Harry followed the goblin to the carts. The ride down was harrowing as always but he couldn't find it within himself to get excited, he supposed that months on the run, cold, hungry, and miserable was enough to leech more happiness than a Dementor's mouth. After what seemed a long time, and a splash through an enchanted waterfall that washed away his glamour, Harry and the goblin arrived at Vaults 703-711.

The goblin stepped out with a lantern and gestured to a touchstone beside the intricate wrought iron doors. Like its namesake the metal was burned black. Harry tapped the gold Head of Family Ring against the stone and an audible click prompted the goblin to open the doors. The inside was full of piles of galleons, sickles, Knuts, and onyx chips carved with the Black Family coat-of-arms. Furniture and other trinkets were arranged on tables or simply thrown haphazardly around the immense interior. Harry took out his money pouch and started shoveling coins inside. The goblin left him to it, slipping unnoticed into Vault 712 for a drink since the wizard seemed he would take some time.

As such neither human nor goblin saw a shadowed figure dart through the open vault doors.

Harry had filled ten pouches already and was cramming jewels into an eleventh (you never knew when you might have to 'steal' supplies from a Muggle and you couldn't very well leave galleons, could you?) when the sound of scattering gold pierced the stillness. Before the noise could register fully a rapier blade tapped the underside of his chin.

"You might just be the greatest forgery in the world to get into this vault with a fake ring but your vigilance could use some work." A female voice drifted down the shaft of the blade to his ears, soft and silky but with an unexpected bite. "Stand up and drop your ill-gotten gains."

"You might want to rethink that, miss." Harry pressed the tip of a wand just under the attacker's breasts. Truthfully he didn't know if the wand would work, he'd just snatched it up automatically when he heard the noise. But his attacker didn't know that. "Lower the sword and I might let you live."

Stale mate. At least until he felt her tense through the blade and quickly fell backward, firing off an _expelliramus_ that blasted the woman into a table of gold scales. Quickly rising to his feet he saw her doing the same and fired a stunner. Unfortunately she tried to dodge and the spell only caught her hand, luckily it was the hand holding the sword. He disarmed her when she drew a wand and wordlessly stuck her a foot above the floor on a wall. She struggled as he checked his neck for blood but gave up by the time he stood in front of her. Her black cloak hood was up hiding her features although her heart-shaped ruby lips were enticingly visible.

"I don't know how you got in here or if you're one of Voldemort's cronies but I have every right to be here. I am the Head of the House of Black."

"How dare you speak his name like that? He will tear you apart when he hears about this, mark my words, the Dark Lord will hunt you down and make this whole world suffer for your affront!" He rolled his eyes during her rant. Great, another Bellatrix Lestrange in love with the half-snake half-blood. Harry wondered if she knew about Riddle's little secret? Probably not. It wasn't something the Daily Prophet was going to announce on the front page while Thicknesse was running the show.

"I've got news for you: your precious Lord Voldemort is a 'mudblood' in your words. His father was just an ordinary Muggle named Tom Riddle who was drugged into loving a witch named Gaunt." Harry quickly wrote 'I am Lord Voldemort' in the air with his wand and rearranged the letters to read 'Tom Marvolo Riddle'. "There's your newsflash. And if he hasn't succeeded in hunting me down after six months do you really think he's going to get it right now? For all you people hate me you should like me just a little more than him – both my parents were wizards."

"Lies! You spread lies about my Lord!" The woman struggled against the sticking charm and grunted toward her wand. "He is of the purest blood! The Blood of Salazar Slytherin beats in his veins!"

"Be silent!" Harry uttered the command in parsletongue and even thought it was no spell it had the desired effect. By her stillness and the way her beautiful jaw clenched it had the intended impact so he switched back to normal. "I am the heir of Slytherin by right of combat because I beat your boss Tommy twice already."

"My lord is unbeatable!"

"Oh get off it and just let me leave, will you?" He was rapidly losing patience. "I've got what I came here for, I didn't even touch the furniture or books, just the gold, you can accuse me of whatever you want…or not, I don't care. I just want to get out of here and not get arrested, okay?"

"So now you admit you're stealing! The House of Black is strong! They will hunt you down for this thievery!" She was starting to spit as she screamed.

"Aside from one insane murderer the House of Black is dead. I don't think dead men will come hunting me down anytime soon." Harry fastened the full pouches to his belt and walked out, cancelling the charm as he crossed the threshold.

The rest of the ride back to the surface was uneventful and he was hoping the whole affair was over and he could just sneak away and find Hermione and Ron when that hope was violently crushed by a shout in the middle of the entrance hall. He made his way outside and across the street before a flying tackle brought him to the ground. Then came the clawing and scratching…

"Ow! Will someone get this crazy bitch off me!?" He kicked her off and made a dash for the apparition point, dodging stunned witches and wizards wondering just what was going on, honestly he had to give Tom some credit this kind of trap wasn't anything he expected; he just hoped there wasn't an anti-apparition ward up otherwise he was a goner. A cutting curse grazed his thigh, forcing him to take shelter down Knockturn Alley. The crowd was inconsequential in his mind – they were sheep or even worse puppets of Voldemort. He was forced back down Draunkurn Alley, idly wondering just what the hell was going on as his pursuer's screams echoed behind him.

He pushed past dirty pimps out for the lunch 'afternoon delight' crowd and past the Jade Palace brothel on his way back to the dead-end alley he'd started the journey in…

He didn't like it but he'd have to go back into the sewers and find another way back to his friends. Already his clothing alterations were starting to unravel so time was truly running out. The manhole was just in front of him and he'd just squatted down to lift it again when his pursuer burst past a crooked stack of wood crates with a cry. In an instant he whirled with the platinum tipped black oak wand firing a horizontal line of stunners and underpowered cutting curses. Moody always said (aside from 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE!') that the least expected attack was one in the middle of the expected, like a cockroach in the middle of a plowman's sandwich. As the stunners splashed against the sooty stone buildings, the bank of cutters sailed straight down the narrow alley mouth which caused the crazy woman to seek shelter in a stone doorway. She was screaming more about the House of Black in the meantime.

"_Stupefy!_" He heard and then the cobblestones were rising up to meet his face. He spun around drunkenly before consciousness faded and saw the gorgeous black-haired witch he'd flirted with earlier standing in the doorway of her window with a wand pointed at him. Then Harry knew nothing but darkness.

o0Oo To Be Continued oO0o


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: If you're reading this on then I hope you realize I don't own Harry Potter or associated characters.

Author's Notes 08/13/12:

Nothing really to say except: READ AND REVIEW please!

Author's Notes 08/26/12:

Chapter's finished (finally) and for all the naysayers that complained that the previous upload wasn't complete I have this to say: would you like a taste of what's to come as you read the complete chapter or just a complete chapter? When I post a new chapter I like to have a bit of buffer between what I post and the next. So I'll give readers a taste and see how they like how it's coming alone. I'm going to try to post a new chapter every week (or so) while also balancing my original fiction. Anyway, enjoy!

o0OoO0o

He awoke to darkness and tried to move. No such luck, he was tied to a chair in the middle of a dark room with drapes closed against what appeared to be moonlight. That meant he had no idea what time it was since it was night when Ron came back, day when he was at Gringotts, so this could be that night or any night afterward. Stunners usually ended with an _enervate_ instead of just wearing off though so who knew how long he was out?

Obviously he didn't have his wand. His hands were tied behind his back and not only to each other but to the wide flat piece of wood making up a third of the backrest for the chair. His ankles were bound to the front legs of the chair and he belatedly realized he was missing his clothes.

All of them…he was completely starkers in the dark in a strange building. Not to mention the Voldemort lackey after him and the fact that as 'Undesirable Number One' there was an astronomically high bounty on his head. Once the thick silence finished pounding in his ears he picked up muted conversation in another room. On one wall was a door, if the light coming from under it was any indication, and if he concentrated he could barely make out words.

"…Can't believe you! Stripping!? Don't you have any shame? The noble house of…"

"…give me that load of shit! I need the money to get out of…"

"…both calm down? Who did you…he what?"

Three women in the next room, one of them the stripper from the window, another the crazy Riddle groupie from Gringotts, the third an unknown but possibly a voice of reason. If they had his clothes they had the money which left him precious little to bargain with…aside from his body. He didn't like that train of thought. Thoughts of Ginny sprang to mind and he calmed down a bit before images of Hermione started…ahem…interacting with the youngest Weasley. Then the bare-chested _stupefy_-ing witch joined in, reminding Harry he hadn't taken care of his 'male issues' for the past few days. Hermione was willing, of course who wouldn't be, but it seemed to feed the evil aura of Slytherin's Locket so after their first encounters he'd paced the frequency of their activities so the dark whispering faded in between.

The door swung open with a kick and lamplight flooded the room. Harry squinted in the glare and willed his eyes to adjust to the blinding illumination. Three women, all with long black hair and scowls, filed into the room and stood in front of his prone form. If his nudity was distracting they gave no sign. Presumably they'd all gotten an eyeful when they stripped him. He squinted without his glasses, able to see everything in a soft blur but no detail. He was in a dormitory-style bedroom with four beds and his chair sat in the middle of them, a fireplace was inlaid on the wall beside the door but no fire was lit. So much for breaking free and using the floo…

The witch to his left was the stripper and still wore her provocative robes – leading Harry to assume that not much time had passed from his ambush in the alley and the present. Her black hair was long and straight, spilling evenly on either side of her face and ending at the top of her breasts. She wore leather black boots with high heels and a black lace garter belt – further enforcing his earlier estimation that she was 'for hire' as the saying went but he hadn't noticed the garter belt the first time. Absently he felt 'little Harry' start to stir and diverted his eyes to the next of his captors.

In the middle, tapping her foot impatiently was the bitch from Gringotts. Black hair fell in half-ringlets in a cascade down her back, her bangs pulled back to join the rest of her hair and her now familiar ruby red lipstick a dead giveaway. She wore an olive green dress with a black corset. Glancing at her right arm he noted that it was uncovered and she did not bear the Dark Mark. She growled at his gaze. He moved on.

The third witch, the one to his right, was the tallest of the three. She was the only one of the three with bangs while the rest was pulled into a loose trail down her back. She wore a shimmering silver-green dress that hugged her generous curves with a rather large heart-shaped cut-out to display her formidable cleavage. At his glance she bent forward an inch at the waist and pressed her breasts together with a wink.

'Little Harry' was very impressed.

"Stop ogling my sister and lower your 'wand', thief! We have a lot of questions for you to answer!" The middle woman drew her wand threateningly.

"If you're just going to hand me over to your 'Master', you bitch, can I at least put some clothes on?" Just to spite her he clenched the muscles in his groin causing 'little Harry' to bob vigorously in her direction. That earned him a sharp slap to the face.

"'Master'? What is he talking about?" The stripper on the left folded her arms under her breasts and fixed the middle witch with a stern glare. "Don't tell me you've joined that psychotic little band of murderers…have you?"

"Look at my arm, little sister; does it look like I have?" Ah, so the three were sisters…there was more than a passing similarity between the three blurry feminine shapes. Something worrying starting gnawing at Harry's gut, like he should know this, that this was all too familiar…

"That doesn't change the fact you're thinking about it! And this stranger knows? Were you blabbing your mouth off again in the middle of the alley?"

"Of course not! What do you take me for - a fool?" Psycho Sister pointed at him. "I was minding my own business when I found this thief stealing from the family vault!"

At this Slutty Sister (not to be confused with Stripper Sister) got into the argument. "And I suppose that you were just idly passing by the vault? You know you can't access the family vault!"

"You keep your nose out of this, Cissy, it doesn't concern you!" Psycho whirled on Slutty and a three-way argument started that Harry would just as soon ignore but it was getting cold and he needed to use the loo. The three were actually very much alike and the similarities had to be very striking if he could see them without his glasses. Stripper had a particularly strong resemblance to Psycho…

_Oh no fucking bloody way!_ It suddenly occurred to him how seriously fucked he was and not in the pleasurable way. _You've got to be fucking kidding me!_

"Let me guess…you three are the Black Sisters, right?"

The fighting stopped at his question and all three nodded slowly.

Harry barked out a laugh Sirius would have been proud of and promptly fainted.

o0OoO0o

Bellatrix Black sat on one of the dingy beds in the attic of Number 12 Grimmauld Place and stared at the naked wizard tied to a chair. It had been 15 minutes since he'd lost consciousness. Contrary to popular belief she took time to consider her options before acting…usually. When her Black blood was up, however, there was no stopping her temper – something her family could attest to – especially as her 17th birthday approached. Entering her 7th Year at Hogwarts meant her family was expecting her to perform her family duties and marry a respectable Pureblood boy and make more Blacks. She'd been planning on withdrawing the rest of her trust vault, trying her hand at breaking into the 'liquid assets' family vault, and make an escape to Paris or Rome until her mother's nagging over marriage contracts ended. Thankfully she was spending the summer with Uncle Orion and Aunt Walburga who could care less for her comings and goings so a trip to Diagon Alley when unnoticed. If everything had gone to plan her disappearance wouldn't have been noticed for two or three days – more than enough head start.

But then this thief appeared with a counterfeit ring. She knew Uncle Orion still had the ring since she'd seen it on his finger during breakfast that very morning. The Blacks were not such a weak family to allow goblins or the Ministry to punish those that tried to steal from them; they exacted retribution themselves with a great percentage of interest. That ended up in a whirlwind chase through Diagon and Knockturn Alleys before Andy's impromptu appearance.

The scandal! A scion of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black stripping down Draunkurn Alley!? Bellatrix didn't even want to think about the 'other' activities Andy could be selling on the side for an extra galleon or two…her younger sister needed a serious talking to once they solved the mystery of the stranger. She couldn't even remember when Cissy entered into the equation, probably when they smuggled him into the house, but the youngest Black's presence was an unwelcome one, particularly her mode of dress during the interrogation and her interest in the contents of the thief's pants when they stripped him.

Looking at the assemblage of items strew across the bed along with the stranger's clothes brought up even more questions. The clothes were old, travel-worn and of a Muggle style. The cloak was equally worn but of exceptional quality given the residual magic seeping off the cloth – evidence that it had seen more than one transfiguration. The money pouches, each fit to bursting with coin or jewel, were on the table in the other room. That left a golden snitch, a platinum and oak wand taken from the vault, a broken holly wand, and a pair of glasses – all of which brought her no closer to the boy's identity.

He was obviously a wizard and probably played Quidditch if his physique was any indication, Rodolphus loved to flaunt his Quidditch body for her presumed enjoyment, but showed many signs of past and present malnutrition. He was around her age, maybe a year older or younger, with a handsome face (not that she was looking mind you) marked only by a lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. Despite her sister's crass observations about the boy's equipment Bellatrix was not above a thorough visual investigation of the wizard's 'wand' nor thoughts about what manner of magic might be performed with said instrument. The only element that stopped a more thorough investigation was his startling resemblance to James Potter, one of her cousin Sirius' classmates at Hogwarts and a renowned blood-traitor.

"Has he woken up yet?" Andy walked up behind her older sister and handed her a steaming mug of tea. Andromeda Black had changed out of her work clothes and opted for a warm long sleeve blouse and chocolate brown skirt with green leggings. The winter chill was inconsequential in a magical house since the wards and walls regulated the temperature but the open window in the other room let in sporadic billows of freezing air. Her elder sister was sitting back in a leather chair facing the captured wizard with her arms and legs crossed, a stern look drawing her normally aristocratic good looks into a scowl. "You know staring at him isn't going to wake him up. You could use _enervate_ if you really wanted him to answer your questions."

"No need," Narcissa drawled from a bed where she was reading the latest issue of Witch Weekly, "he's been awake for the past five minutes."

The boy's head rose sheepishly and he turned to the youngest Black's voice. "How'd you know?"

"Your breathing changed," was her uninterested response. Bellatrix shook her head and stood up.

"Let's start with easy questions and work our way up to complicated sentences so as not to test your little brain." While Bella spoke Andy sat beside Narcissa and handed her a mug of tea. Despite appearances both were very interested in the proceedings. "What is your name?"

"Harold, Bella-dear, do you think I could get my glasses back? I'd prefer to be able to see you if you're seriously going to interrogate me." His tone was flippant and teasing but he hadn't forgotten the eldest Black's murder of Sirius or her torture of Neville's parents. If he really was in the past – as ridiculous a notion as it was – she wasn't the same person but actions spoke of a person's soul. A soul didn't change that much. He didn't doubt that she was already in line to become one of Voldie's elite even if she had yet to take the mark.

"Ohh…right, so you can see me better and get a stiffy again? You can see me just fine without the glasses, 'Harold'. What? No family name? It doesn't surprise me that a thief wouldn't have a family – what'd they do disown you?" Harry saw the same glint of purple in her eyes as if created from her maliciousness and flared his magic like Dumbledore taught him the previous year. The non-verbal, wand-less cutting curse sliced neatly and noiselessly through his bonds. Ignoring the trio's incredulous stares he leaned forward and cut the ropes at his ankles before taking the two steps to the bed, retrieved his glasses, and sat back down in the chair.

"For your information my family name is Black," he was conveniently forgetting the 'Potter' before his last name but what they didn't know couldn't hurt his future, "and I bear the Family Ring of Black. I assume we're in the attic of Number 12? Kreacher!"

The Black house elf appeared between Bella and Harry looking just as confused as the eldest Black sister felt. "M-master called?"

"Do you recognize me as your master, Kreacher?" Harry crossed his arms with a smirk.

"Kreacher is confused…Master Black is in the library but Master Black is sitting here." The slightly-less-deranged elf looked to his mistresses for some kind of explanation. "You is Master Black?"

"I'm Master Harry, Kreacher, and I'd appreciate it if you could find me some underwear since your great mistress wants me naked for whatever evil things she has in mind for me and I'd rather deny her the pleasure."

"Is Master Harry in danger from Mistress Bella?" The confusion was slowly fading from Kreacher's features as the unique magic that bound the house elf to the Black family stretched to accommodate the time-tossed heir to the House of Black.

Harry smirked at the expressions on the sisters' faces. "Not at the moment but I'll let you know if I need a quick escape. Would you also mind bringing me a butterbeer and some sandwiches?" The elf popped away with a slow nod. "Any more stupid questions?"

"B-b-but that's impossible! Uncle Orion is Lord Black, you can't have his ring." Surprisingly enough Narcissa was the first to voice her concerns. "There can't be two heads of house – it has never happened in recorded history."

"Ha, history is right! I don't think anyone has ever dealt with a situation like this before so there isn't a precedent for any of this." A silver tray appeared in Harry's lap with a ham sandwich, a bottle of butterbeer, and a pair of silk boxers arranged neatly on its polished surface. He set the tray on one of the four beds and donned the boxers. "Thanks Kreacher, I owe you one. So, what's your next question?"

It had to be some kind of booby trap built into the locket, perhaps something even older than Voldemort's defilement of it into a Horcrux, perhaps even a defense mechanism created by Salazar Slytherin himself! Had a temporal charm existed at the time of the Founders? Time Tuners were a relatively new invention or so Hermione told him, but their breadth of scope was limited to hours or at most days. Could the temporal curse have actually tossed him seemingly over twenty years into the past? With the rest of the crazy shit that seemed to happen around him Harry didn't doubt that if Slytherin or Voldemort set any obscure traps he was going to trip every single one.

"What is your real name? And how did you become Family Head?" Bella brandished her crooked wand, grabbed his throat, and pressed the point at the top of his crotch. "Answer me or your other wand will join the others on the bed."

"My name is Harry Black and as difficult as this may be to accept I'm from the future. Perhaps not your future, I don't understand how this all works, but a future where I'm on the run and being hunted by Voldemort." Andromeda and Narcissa didn't seem to recognize the name so it didn't seem like the self-styled Dark Lord had publicly declared himself. Looking into Bellatrix's violet eyes he saw a burning hatred spring up and her mouth drew open in a manic smile.

"Ha! I told you! I told all of you my Master was going to win the war!" Bella began to cackle. Andromeda frowned, finally putting the pieces together, while Narcissa scoffed into her mug of tea. "You'd all best join the Dark Lord's forces now or you'll be so-rry!"

"Don't be too hasty in joining up just yet, ladies – despite Bella's enthusiasm her precious Dark Lord hasn't won the war even in my time period and it's been over twenty years since he declared himself. Not much of a Dark Lord, is he hmm?"

Bella nearly imploded in outrage as Andromeda and Narcissa began laughing, a state that escalated when the Psycho Black Sister stomped her foot and raised her wand at Harry. Harry to his credit merely smirked and twirled his right index finger at Bellatrix, the irate witch unaware as the platinum and oak wand levitated off the bed behind her and glowed white.

"I'm sorry did I touch a nerve?" With a come hither gesture a powerful _stupefy_ hit Bella between the shoulder blades. Boneless, she slumped to her knees before her face fell into Harry's lap. The impact of the girl's heavy head straight into the boy's crotch clearly wasn't as pleasant as it seemed if the tears rolling down his cheeks were any indication. Narcissa sighed heavily and yanked her older sister off by her sable mane before cooing soothingly with her hands sliding inside the flared opening at the front of Kreacher's Pureblood green silk boxers.

"Aside from Bella's insanity, now that you're…well, here…what does this mean for uncle Orion? If you're Lord Black, is he still Lord Black? Can you emancipate wards of the House of Black? According to Bella you're capable of entering the Family Vault so where do your powers end?" Andromeda quickly cast an _enervate_ on her overzealous younger sister and grabbed her youngest by the hair. "Down, Narcissa! You can play with his basilisk later…maybe after he's explained what exactly he's doing here."

Bella rose like a seething tidal wave, hair tussled, clothes mussed, and that maniacal gleam twinkled in the corner of her eye like a homicidal version of Dumbledore's trademark. Harry unconsciously crossed his legs.

Then it struck him. If he was in the past there was no end to the changes he could do! Why, he could save his parents' lives! Or, nip Voldemort's Horcrux creation in the bud and cut down his powerbase! The shocking realization tingled up his spine until at the end he was sitting straight with an utterly flabbergasted look on his face. This was apparently the wrong kind of face to make if Bella's reaction was any indication: she slapped him out of the chair.

Before he hit the floor his wand was in his hand and the Psycho Black sister flew across the room to collide with a bookcase. Landing in a somersault that took him beside Narcissa Andromeda didn't even have time to utter a spell before the platinum-capped tip of Harry's ill-gotten Black wand tapped under her chin.

"Let's not be too hasty, Andy, or I might just do some unspeakable things to little Cissy here." Harry's hand caressed the girl's supple neck, trying not to smirk as she shuddered against his body – rubbing her cotton-covered behind against the bulge once again growing in his boxers. He briefly remembered meeting the future Missus Malfoy at the Quidditch World Cup and how her eyes lingered longer than necessary on his pubescent crotch at the time. She was the fuel for many late-night wanking sessions between being angry that Ginny was dating Dean (and not him), and fantasizing about Hermione's firm ass once he'd pulled his head out of his own (ass as it was) and realized she was a woman.

And there was the conundrum with his current situation. Here in the past he was free to do virtually anything he wanted. He could kill Voldemort before he truly came to power and destroy the fiend's Horcruxes now before Regulus stole the locket and Bellatrix hid Helga Hufflepuff's cup in Gringotts. Sure he could do that but then again he could whore his way around the Wizarding world for a few months, notch up some conquests among the teenage versions of the women/mothers he'd grown up around, and screw up everyone's plans. Sure Dumbledore and Voldemort both had plans (some of which actually ended up coming true) but since Harry knew their schemes he also knew exactly how to throw a spanner in the works…

The key points to both the Light and Dark Lord's plans were: Bellatrix LeStrange nee Black, Lily Potter nee Evans, Molly Weasley nee Prewitt, Severus Snape, and Peter Pettigrew. Bellatrix was needed as the Right Hand of Voldemort and torturer of the Longbottoms, Lily Potter was needed to housebreak James Potter and sacrifice herself for him, Molly was needed to grieve the deaths of her brothers and galvanize the forces of Light against Voldemort, Snape was needed to spill the prophecy, and Pettigrew to play the stooge of betrayal. Take any of those essential characters away and the future as he knew it was history. Harry giggled a bit at his pun and tweaked the captive Narcissa's nipples. She moaned and thrashed.

The problem with the future, in his mind, was the utter and complete lack of high-end snatch. Not to be crass or anything but the long days spent in the Forest of Dean with Hermione after Ron left really hit home the fact that the Wizarding World had its head crammed up its Victorian-Era ass when it came to sex and relationships. After a furious three-day sex binge (which the locket apparently liked since it hadn't done anything to dampen the mood) after the initial awkward night, Harry and Hermione compared notes on their respective genders.

For wizards the problem was similar to their Muggle counterparts: beauty was in the eye of the beholder. Sure there were many attractive witches at Hogwarts but comparing Purebloods to Muggleborn revealed that most of the pretty witches were Muggleborn. Unfortunately that also meant that if first generation wizards were hoping to make it big in the Wizarding World had to marry into the ugly establishment. This accounted for the aloofness of Pureblood witches who believed that men should bow down to their bow-wow looks. Muggleborns invariably believed that such behavior was normal and emulated it – the sum total of that phenomenon becoming the now standard frigidity of witches. Add to that the hopeless sexism of Wizards and it resulted in a general dampening of relations between the sexes. At Hogwarts it was compounded by hormones and the awkwardness of puberty. The prime example of this was Millicent Bullstrode – the hulking mass of sexless femininity from which any sane man fled in fear but who also had a list of suitors a mile long.

On the other side that same sexism hampered Muggleborn witches' desire for the opposite sex. The same rules applied regarding Pureblood society so that witches had to marry ugly (in body and mind) wizards in order to have any kind of stability or power. The prime example of this was (unsurprisingly) another of the Slytherin Purebloods: Vincent Crabbe. The man had the IQ of a turnip, the block-and-tackle of a juvenile pigmy eel, and the body odor of a weeks-dead dung beetle. Yet just like Bullstrode, Crabbe had a list of potential women clamoring for his hand simply because his family decided that fathers marrying daughters or grandfathers marrying great-grandchildren was all right for the past seven generations. The boy's blood was thinner than water and of such low quality that it may have been strawberry jam and been more effective but his name spoke in the 'right circles' so there were beautiful and desirable witches lining up to copulate with the diseased animal.

Hermione's opinion, revealed in the unexpected clarity after a particularly satisfying buggering in the home stretch of their three-day orgy, was that for the good of The Wizarding World Muggle gene science should be used to isolate potential magicals and bring them into the world earlier while simultaneously calling for the sterilization/euthanasia of those Purebloods no better than squibs. Needless to say Harry was appalled by his best friend's ruthless opinion but when she explained the inevitable decline of their world under the thrall of 'people' barely capable of holding their bowels in check let alone conjure an acceptable NEWT-level shield in a clear, concise, and logical manner he was forced to agree.

Now for every argument there are always two sides and in this case the exceptions helped enforce the rule rather than subvert it: Harry's rebuttal consisted entirely of Daphne Greengrass and Draco Malfoy. Daphne was a true Pureblood much like Millicent but seemed perfect physically – mentally Harry couldn't guess since he'd never spoken to her personally – and consistently tested at the top of their class. Draco, on the other hand, was perfect physically but clearly got the shallow end of the gene pool in smarts. After that argument he vowed never to disagree with Hermione ever again.

The blame for this deficiency was totally Voldemort's and his Pureblood agenda poisoning the next generation. Now that Harry was here in the past, really right at the beginning of the Dark Wanker's rise to power, he had the ability to enact fantastic changes. And it did seem like he was in it for the long run – to his knowledge there weren't any Time Tuners that took one into the future, only the past, so he might just be stuck. He figured…he was really just guessing.

If he was going to change the future (and he was) the changes would start here with the Black Sisters. Bellatrix was one of those precious pieces of immutable worth. She was just about to graduate Hogwarts after the coming year and probably marry Rodolphus LeStrange before taking the Dark Mark. He had the ability to change that decision, to change her for the better, and by Merlin he was going to try his hardest! The only nagging question was how to do it…

She was attracted to power. Voldemort was very powerful and he espoused a philosophy that confirmed her own misguided sense of worth. As she hadn't taken the Mark yet all Harry needed to do was subvert her thinking and bring it in-line with his own. She was fanatically loyal so once he had her allegiance he had her in total but how to do it?

"I'm not here to hurt any of you girls but if you continue your assault on my person things might get messy. I'm going to let Narcissa go now…I trust you aren't going to do anything drastic, Andromeda?" He lowered his wand and released the youngest girl's neck but she refused to move away from him, in fact her hands grew even more bold.

"I want to know who you are, how you're Lord Black, and what the hell you're talking about being a time traveller," Andy lowered her wand and dragged Cissy away from the half-naked wizard, "no more beating around the bush…I want…I demand answers!"

And now here it was: the moment of truth. Did he dare to break the future? He could play the whole deal safe and let history run its course (with minor alterations of course) or fracture the time stream itself no matter the consequences. No, no, it wouldn't do to let Little Harry run this particular show – the decision was way too important for base lust to interfere. He opened his mouth, not knowing what was going to spill out…

"I am Lord Slytherin, magical heir to Salazar Slytherin and Lord of the Chamber of Secrets." Not a total lie since he was a parselmouth and commanded the wards of the Hogwarts' Founder's private quarters. "I was tricked by the wicked Tom Riddle – 'Lord' Voldemort – and thrown backwards in time. The prick had to resort to traps in order to get rid of me; after all I was his biggest opponent in the future." Again, not a total lie…

Apparently that was the last thing Andromeda was expecting since she fainted dead away. Narcissa, however, seemed to grow even bolder once the name 'Slytherin' passed his lips.

Bellatrix was still unconscious on the other side of the room.

Thankfully Andromeda's trip to slumber land didn't last as long as Bella's and she sprung into Harry's face before he had the chance to plan his next words.

"So you're a rival Dark Lord from the future, Bella's not-so-secret 'Dark Lord' is named Voldemort, and Dumbledore hasn't managed to defeat either of you. Are you both that strong? How many followers do you have? What kind of philosophy do you espouse? How did you come back to this time? What time are you from? Apparently you know us…but from where? How old are we? How old are you?" At that she took a moment to draw in a long breath. "And the most important question of all: how did you become Lord Black?"

Harry stepped backwards until his knees hit a bed and he fell with Narcissa. Andy was back in his face before he could sit up.

"Uh…" Clearly he hadn't thought the plan through. "What's the most important question to you? I'll only answer one right now." Good, maybe given enough time he'd come up the answers to all those questions.

Andy stared up at the ceiling tapping her right index finger against her pouty red lips.

"I'll stick with my gut on this one, especially since I already told you and you just seem to want to forget I ever said anything, and go with how you became the Black of Black?"

"First off I'm not a Dark Lord, not like you seem to understand the term at least, I'm more what Dumbledore would call a 'Gray Lord' although he likes describing me as a 'Dark Lord' to his supporters." It was amazing what new levels of shit could come out of his open mouth! Bullshit was just spewing from his pie-hole and Andromeda seemed to be eating it up like ice cream. Truthfully he knew that Dumbledore's greatest fear was his 'tool' Harry going dark so it wasn't that much of a stretch to paint himself as a gray faction – it was true to a certain extent since he didn't believe in stunning Death Eaters nor did he believe in outright killing. "I'm Slytherin's heir so I play the angles – so to speak – and that just so happened to put me in line for Black of Black when the previous head lost his," here he raised a hand to stop any interruptions, "and before you ask I won't tell you who the head was at the time. I'm fucking around with time enough as it is…"

God it felt good to swear! Between keeping his mouth shut in front of his teachers then Hermione's taboo (that extended even into the bedroom, although she allowed the terms 'pussy' and 'cock' since they had connotations outside sex) he was ready to explode in expletives.

"So the next thing is that I'm a half-blood, not a Pureblood, but Slytherin didn't actually care about blood purity as much as the history books say. I read a few of his journals in the Chamber of Secrets and what he proposed was to simply enforce a division between Magical and Muggle. Taking Muggleborns away from their parents and placing them in Magical families once their powers manifested was what he actually had in mind. He didn't care for the whole blood purity thing at all since Helga Hufflepuff was a Muggleborn and Rowena Ravenclaw a Mudblood if you choose to use such an insulting slur."

Narcissa and Andromeda were now sitting cross-legged on the opposite end of the bed from Harry. As Slytherins they sought out knowledge just as voraciously as Ravenclaws but they compiled knowledge to be used instead of simply stockpiled. This was proving very illuminating to the pair since they were learning more about their idol Salazar Slytherin then they'd ever dreamed! And all just by asking him how he became Lord Black!

"So you inherited the Lordship through legal means not blood?" Narcissa asked that particular question not out of vindictiveness but rather to understand his claim. "Could it be taken away by the current head?"

"I do have Black blood in me, at least that's what the goblins tell me, and that gives me the right to inherit by blood. Never would've happened otherwise. As for your Uncle, well, this isn't exactly a normal situation so I don't know." He spun his wand at Bellatrix and the unconscious girl floated onto the bed beside them. "Either of you want to wake her up? It'll be easier if I only have to explain things once."

One quick _enervate_ from Andy and Bella was back in the game.

"Where is that little-"

"Ah, ah, ah…Bella," he felt a vindictive thrill crawl up his spine at lording it over the soon-to-be insane Black sister, "I just wanted to explain some things to you all before we blew each other up. I figure you want to be awake when I explain things, right?"

"Just get on with it so I can kill you faster." The affront to her lord would not stand! She'd see the upstart boil alive in his own fat.

"While I won't tell you anything specific about the future – can't really – I will tell you about the Voldemort Wars and some general things I hope will make things difficult for old snake-face and Bumbledore. You guys wanna hear them?"

"So my Lord was powerful enough to survive one war and wage another?"

"What kinds of information are we talking about?"

"What happens to the House of Black in the future?"

Harry scooted back on the bed away from the trio as they peppered him with questions he wasn't willing or able to answer. He'd give them a brief overview – minus anything about specific dates or people – and hope they would make different decisions. And hey if he could spin the story right, in other words pull a Dumbledore, maybe he could get some back-up from Andy and Narcissa. Hell it was worth a try…

"First things first and that is that Voldie lost the first war pretty badly I must add. He was destroyed in a foolish mistake because he was moron-"

"HOW DARE YOU!"

"-shush, Bella-dear, and let me tell the story. He was a moron and forgot certain safeguards that resulted in his 'death'. Now since there was a Second Voldemort War he returned but only as a magic-powered snake man born from the dark arts. Trust me, Bella, he wasn't even human in mind let alone body, definitely not someone you wanted to follow but then again you were pants-crappingly insane."

"I WAS WHAT!? HOW DARE YOU MAKE-"

"Would you shut up and stop yelling Bella!? Do you want the whole house to know we have a half-naked half-blood locked in our bedroom? Just calm the fuck down!" With that outburst, Harry saw the powerful witch Andromeda would grow into – the witch who defied the House of Black and married a Muggle. Even with Bellatrix's strength and skills Harry had no doubt Andromeda could give her older sister a run for her money. At that he thought of Narcissa, currently twisting a lock of black hair coquettishly as she stared at him with undisguised lust. Maybe the future missus Malfoy would be up for a roll in the hay. Ha, then when he got back he could tell Draco that he'd legitimately fucked his mother!

"Okay I'll give you a little hint about your future, Bella, if only because you seem like a stubborn person who's going to do what she wants regardless of any advice I give." Sounds a lot like me, he ruefully observed with a grimace, but now that I'm here for however long I won't make the same mistakes. "You joined Riddle's Riot of Ridiculous Retards straight out of Hogwarts whether due to coerces ion or because you really buy the Pureblood myth I'm not sure. When he lost the first war you were thrown in Azkaban for fifteen years. Tommy boy only broke you out because his other Inner Circle members were either stupid or dead. And when you came out you were a few chasers short of a team."

Bella went silent halfway through his story and he watched her as he spoke. What started as a petulant scowl quickly turned into incredulous horror then disgusted regret. Maybe there was hope for this Bellatrix after all.

"So you mean I spent the best years of my life screaming and shitting myself in Azkaban until My Lord needed a weapon? Then I was insane and continued following him?"

"That's pretty much the basics of it, yeah. Listen, I hated you in the future more than maybe even Riddle himself, but I don't really know what happened to you after Hogwarts. Cissy wasn't going to talk to a half-blood like me, especially one opposed to Riddle, and Andy had lost whatever pull she'd had long before I was born."

Now that was more info then the boy probably meant to give, Andy decided while Bella was lost in thought. He'd revealed Bella's fate, implied that Cissy was a slave to this Dark Lord probably against her will, and all but stated she was either disowned or dead. None of those facts were ones she liked or wanted. Something had to be done.

"How old are you, Lord Slytherin?"

"Just call me Harry, okay? I don't go in for all that 'Lord' crap. I'm just Harry." He summoned the tray from earlier and tore half the sandwich off with a generous swig of butterbeer. "And I'm seventeen."

Narcissa wrinkled her nose at his lack of table manners, certainly not manners befitting a Lord, but allowed a bit of leeway since he was sitting cross-legged in boxers on her bed. "That doesn't seem to be old enough for a lord. You just got your lordship what? Three days ago?"

"About four months ago actually, Cissy, if you must know." He swallowed the rest of the sandwich and polished off the bottle. "And I'm sure you realize that becoming Lord of an Ancient and Noble House like House Black brings with it immediate emancipation? I became Black of Black when I was fifteen. Kreacher?"

Abruptly the elf popped into existence. He took the empty tray. "Would Master like something else?"

"I'd love a bowl of thick soup and a boule of hard bread with a block of hard cheese."

"I shall bring it immediately Master," the elf bowed low, "what soup would you request?"

"Mawmenny, Kreacher, four bowls of it with two boules of honey wheat and Cheshire. And two bottles of wine if you please." Bellatrix answered for the group but never looked at Kreacher only ever staring at Harry. "Put it out on the table in the study when it's ready and use capon, elf, not hen."

Harry didn't know what any of that meant other than Cheshire being a type of cheese but reasoned that Bella wouldn't try to poison her sisters as well as herself. At his nod the old elf left.

"If you're going to tell me I'm going to be insane for nearly twenty years and that two of my sisters are going to be dead or slaves then you've got a lot of explaining to do and I think we're all hungry. Andy, Cissy, why don't you clear off the table?"

The two younger Black sisters glanced between Harry and their elder sibling questioningly but left the bedroom. Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed and ran a hand through his messy black locks – a nervous habit that drove Hermione insane during the Hunt. What he wouldn't do to have her here now helping him with this pile of shit he'd fallen face first into…what the fuck did he know about time travel? Then the humor of his arrival in the past caught up with him and he started laughing.

Bella watched the boy – although that didn't make much sense since he was the same age as herself – slowly crack up with the faint stirrings of fear in her belly.

She was the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts (barring her younger siblings) and one of the most sought after Pureblood heiresses in the country. Uncle Cygnus had already deflected proposals from the Malfoys, The Notts, The Lestranges, The Goyles, The Crabbes, and Macnairs; frankly she didn't see anything good in any of those names. They were pompous windbags or posturing fops or dangerous bullies looking to cash in on the Black name. If what this traveller said was true she wouldn't even be able to enjoy her youth before everything was sucked out of her by Dementors. She wouldn't allow that to happen!

"Before we sit down and break bread, Harry, I just want to know one thing: I need to know if I married out of Hogwarts and to whom if I did. It's very important."

Staring into her iridescent purple eyes he realized she meant every word. She didn't want to know so she could use the knowledge or personal gain; she needed to know so she could prevent her fate. Something shifted in his chest at that revelation. This wasn't Bellatrix Lestrange, not anymore and not ever if he had his way, this was Bella Black and he now believed that she was as much a victim of Voldemort as he was…perhaps more so if one added in Azkaban…

"You…you were married right out of Hogwarts and joined Voldemort because you believed in the Pureblood cause. You married Rodolphus Lestrange before graduation and you lived with him as well as Rastaban until all three of you were thrown in Azkaban."

"…Thank you, Harry. W-why don't you go and help Andy in the other room?"

Harry patted her on the shoulder on his way out and shut the door. The trio never heard Bellatrix Black's screams of anguish or cries of helplessness.

To be continued…


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes 09/02/2012:

A bit shorter update than usual and without the buffer half-chapter. I realized while writing this that I gave Cygnus the title 'Lord Black' in the previous chapters when it's actually Orion who is Lord Black. I apologize. As always read and review! Also – any ideas for future chapters or observations on the Black Sisters (I'm not entirely certain I'm doing them justice) would be greatly appreciated.

o0OoO0o

It was a distinctly subdued Bellatrix that joined them moments later. Harry was just in the middle of explaining some of Gringotts' lesser known defense measures to Narcissa while Andromeda cut the wax-encrusted wheel of Cheshire cheese when the eldest Black sister closed the bedroom door with a dull clink of brass on brass. Wordlessly she sat down and placed a black and silver embroidered napkin on her lap. If her behavior disturbed her sisters they gave no sign but to Harry her behavior was terrifying. Never before had he seen any version of Bellatrix look so…depressed.

The stew was delicious, due largely to the tender capon, and despite his dislike of the House Black house elf Harry had to admit that Kreacher made delicious food. Idly he wondered if it was something natural to elf magic – to be a good housekeeper, to be a good cook, to know how to take care of children – and speculated that Hermione would have a field day when he got home.

If he made it home. Sitting and eating with the Black Sisters kept the worst of it at bay but the impossibility of his task grew in the back of his head as well as the horrible realization that he might never make it back. That hit him harder than the rough dark bread. Hermione, he might never make it back to her! What would happen with the war if he wasn't there? Terrifying images of torture came to mind. Hermione in the stocks, Hermione victim of a brutal gang rape by Purebloods (he knew they did such things, Mandy Brocklehurst was never the same after her brief capture), and at the logical end of that line of thought: Hermione's beautiful warm chocolate eyes locked in sightless stare – victim of _avada kadavra_. Shivering at the image he gulped down another spoonful of stew.

Andromeda watched their time-displaced guest carefully and sipped at her glass of wine. The boy's story was too far-fetched to be truth and too detailed for fiction but the fact remained he believed what he was saying. Stranger things had happened in the name of magic, one need look no further than the groundskeeper of Hogwarts. Magic allowed that a human male could impregnate a female giantess even though the giantess' vagina was easily large enough to fit the entire human male's body. She shuddered at the thought of a male giant trying to impregnate a human female – gods the size of that thing's sperm must be like kittens squirming in the unfortunate woman's uterus…

Enough thinking about that – suffice it to say magic was capable of things outside the realm of human understanding. She'd heard that a group of Unspeakables published a treatise on the potential usage of powdered fairy wings and enchanted sand to turn back time but the last she'd heard it was just speculation. If Harry had come from the future then it was possible time machines were a reality but then he did say it was a trap sprung on him by this Voldemort character. Maybe it was some kind of trap, she couldn't tell, but there were easier ploys than 'oh hai I just dropped in from your hellacious future and I want to make things right' to pull in order to get in good with her family. And then there was the House ring – how did he get one, or rather IT. There were a lot of things you could fake: blood, gender, education, but a House Ring? Gringotts was the absolute top security in the Wizarding World when it came to matters of personal identity – there were reasons why the government trusted them to confirm blood identity through fifteen generations, reasons why the government accepted Gringotts' determinations on blood purity, and the reason was simple: the Goblins were exceedingly good at what they did.

If Bella's cockamamie story was true then the goblins allowed this Harry down to the Black Family vault and the vault accepted him! True, unsubstantiated, but the story was fantastical! Perhaps the first thing to do was get him back down to the bank so she could verify Bella's story.

"So now that we're fed and watered ask me anything you'd like but know that I might not answer."

Well, Andromeda thought, that answers whether he went to Hogwarts or not.

"I have one," Narcissa replied, "but you may not want to answer it…Harry."

Harry wiped his mouth with his napkin and replaced it on a crossed leg. Clearly someone had taught him Pureblood etiquette. "Go ahead Cissy; hit me with your best shot."

"Okay…what kind of girl do you like? And what's your favorite position?" The blonde then burst into hysterical giggles. Harry dropped his spoon back into his bowl. How did this sexually-charged spitfire turn into the MILF-tastic frigid goddess tied to Lucius Malfoy's arm? Well far be it for him to good a gift-horse in the mouth…

"If I had anything to say about it I'd say you, Cissy-dear," he leaned in close enough to tickle her ear with his breath, "spread-eagle on this table." Now where had that come from? Just minutes ago he was moping about never seeing Hermione (his one true love) again and now he was propositioning some floosy four years his junior – quite well he had to admit – to a furious fucking on a rickety wooden table?

"Right now," she purred huskily into his neck as she turned into his nape, "right here? Or later?"

"Right here," he shuddered as her hot tongue licked his jugular, "but I don't think Bella wants semen in her stew." He brushed her check with the back of his hand, allowed that same hand to tickle down her neck until pinching her achingly erect nipple and twisting agonizingly slowly in a half-turn, then slid down to her lap until a single digit pressed urgently against her Egyptian cotton panties. "How about a rain check?"

Bringing the finger to his face he was unsurprised to find it literally dripping with musky opaque juice. Silently he brought it to his lips and licked the fragrant nectar with the tip of his tongue.

"Oh yes! Yes!" Cissy transplanted herself onto his lap, quickly turning the movement into an inexperienced lap dance.

Then reality came crashing down.

"Cissy! Down girl!" Andromeda hollered as she grabbed one arm.

"Get your kitty off that man!" Bellatrix exclaimed as she grabbed the other arm. Together they pulled her up and threw her back into her own chair. "You don't know where he's been! Honesty! Are you just prowling around for cock all the time or just when you can embarrass your sisters!?"

"Not all the time just most of the time! And I'm still pure I'll have you know! Harry can even check if he wants." She winked at him.

"There'll be plenty of time for that later," Harry laughed, "for now let's just get your sister's comfortable then maybe we'll all have some fun." He winked right back at her.

"CAN IT LOVER-BOY!" Psycho Black was back. "Just get on with the questions already!"

Andromeda pushed Narcissa to the back of her chair firmly.

"Why don't I start, then shall I? I want to know who this 'Lord Voldemort' is that Bella's so enamored with she's willing to permanently brand herself like an animal. I know he's all the rage now among the low-intelligence Purebloods and the destitute has-beens but I want to know his ideology, history, abilities, you name it I want to know it!" The rumors among his future Order of the Phoenix members always mentioned Andy as the smartest witch of her age, much like Lily Evans was the smartest of hers and Hermione was the brightest of theirs. Seeing her in action, Harry easily believed that this statuesque black-haired siren with a gravity-defying chest and a washboard stomach he wanted to eat chocolate sauce off of – he'd had experience with Hermione and Hershey's syrup as well as the spicy Luna Lovegood and strawberry jam – was equal in the brains department to anyone else he knew.

And knowledge was power.

He gave them the short version complete with a rousing game of fiery Boggle. He explained the relationship between Salazar Slytherin and Merope Gaunt as well as the parentage of Tom Marvolo Riddle. The look on Bella's face as he tore down her misconceptions of Voldemort's manifesto was priceless. First her eyes flashed red from anger that he dare question her 'master' then clouded over in insecurity then turned flinty with doubt, and finally watered in guilt. He could only surmise the filthy things she'd had to say or do in order to get as far into Voldemort's organization as she had. He knew what was required when an initiate took The Mark but with Hogwarts students he had no idea…probably giving Lucius a windy or double-teaming the Lestrange brothers.

"Okay, so this Riddle asshole sucks all the shit-for-brains Pureblood weaklings in with promises of lording it over Muggleborns and raping all the Muggles they want then just brands them and enslaves them. Nice work Bella! You sure know how to pick 'em! Why'd you even join up? You don't hate Muggleborns any more than Andy or I do!" Cissy started the action.

"I don't get it either," Andy interjected, "you never liked the way Daddy thought about us or talked about Muggles. Why the turn-around?"

Bella whirled around and snatched her younger sister's jaw in her hand. "Why don't you just shut up and ask your precious little cock over there that you ended up marrying! I've just been told I spent the next fifteen years in Azkaban having my fucking brain raped by Dementors every day. The last fucking thing I need right now is an inquiry on what was going through my head when I made the stupid idea of joining up with that bunch of deluded morons! So could you get off my fucking back ALREADY!?"

"Stop. Now." Harry grabbed Bella's wrist and squeezed until she released Andy. "I understand you're upset but I think you're hurting her. Let go now, Bella let her go and we can finish all this talking."

She let go.

"So we have Voldemort on one side riling the Pureblood faction against Muggles, on the other Dumbledore paying lip-service to the Muggleborn while furthering the exact same ideology. Two Dark Lords and you in-between – is that right? So what are your feelings? What is your manifesto?" Andy gulped down the dregs of her glass and rubbed her chin.

"I believe that magic is magic, Muggleborn, Halfblood, or Pureblood, it doesn't make any difference. You have the ability you're part of our world, the Ministry is crooked, and the rest of this society is full of sheep willing to bow down to the loudest voice. Intelligence is the key, this is no longer an oligarchy; the person most suited to a role should fill that role. I'm not a genius – I'm never going to be Minister of Magic – but I can definitely see you in the chair, Andy, with a certain power base behind you. Bella here would make a wonderful Auror if she wasn't ass-over-teakettle in the Dark Arts."

"I'm more than some thick-headed tough swaggering their wands around Diagon Alley! I know sixteen ways to remove your heart without breaking the skin."

Harry patted Bella's head, squeezing the back of her neck and bringing her face into the crook of his neck. "Now, now, Bella, I'm sure you're very smart. Although even you have to admit it wasn't particularly intelligent to join Riddle's Retards." And that was it. The tears began flowing and didn't stop until Harry's entire chest glistened. Still sitting in only green boxers, Harry just accepted it when she fell forward, draping herself over his body. Andy leaned forward and rubbed her sister's back as she sobbed and smiled sadly at Harry.

Narcissa watched the scene, sandwiching her cold wet panties between her thighs, and sipping at her wine. Maybe she wasn't as smart as Andy but she was far from stupid. There were holes in Bella's thinking, of that she was sure, and there was more to her involvement in Voldemort Youth than she was saying. As the youngest daughter of Cygnus and Druella Black she knew all the Pureblood families and most of their businesses, it was her job to act as social secretary and encyclopedia for her mother. After all it wasn't like her parents had enough space in their heads for blackmail material on every Wizengamot member and the complex web of relationships between Pureblood families.

So they turned to her. She could diagram every British Pureblood currently alive with their parents, grandparents, children, nieces, nephews, and mistresses along with bastards. The Blacks were interwoven among every Pureblood family in Europe and she supposed that this 'Harry Black' could have come from one of the off-shoot lines long gone from British shores, perhaps even one from before the Schism of 1567 when the House of Black had two Head of Houses (one pure Black and the other five lines removed). That might account for the House Ring he wore as well as the entrance to the Family Vault – blood called to blood. He did have the characteristic hair of the Blacks, the practiced ease that Pureblood upbringing created, and of course the obvious sexual experience.

Oh, she was wet for him, wet for him bad from his little touches then that experimental frig earlier. There was an actual puddle on the wood seat of her chair. She wasn't looking for a relationship per se, more like a quick tumble to dispense with her pesky virginity (there was an unspoken tradition that the Black of Black could/would deflower Black girls of her age) and maybe a splurge in the Black Vault later on with his powers. Honestly, her mother and Uncle Orion were more than just casual lovers at age thirteen but no, Druella wanted her to wait for some pencil-dicked premature ejaculating tweaker like Teddy Nott or Lucy Malfoy to bust her cherry on their 'wedding night' – which was nothing more than slang for once betrothal papers were signed and witnessed. She didn't want a little big-man with a Pureblood pedigree (although the pedigree wouldn't hurt) she wanted a real man with the physical and magical power to keep her…ha, his…enemies in place. Perhaps this Harry was the one. Oh she wanted him to be the one all right…

Now she watched with a clinical eye his every movement every gesture, every nuance of his impressive body. Of course she couldn't know that his musculature and practiced wariness were 'gifts' of spending over six months on the run. His fingers danced down Bella's exposed spine from the deep scoop down the back of her purple top. The other hand squeezed tightly around the taut skin above her eldest sister's hip and his thigh jumped slightly as he bounced the ball of his foot. So obviously he knew how to comfort weeping girls. Either a plus or minus depending on how that experience was gained – had he made girls cry so many times in the past? Or was it he was good at comforting crying girls? Perhaps he stole all his friends' girls after they fought? So many possibilities…

"Maybe you two could just leave us alone for a minute, yeah?"

It wasn't an unreasonable request. Not on the surface and certainly not to Andy but to her that little request sent up in bright neon letters spelling out 'WE'RE GONNA FUCK!' And that she didn't like…at all. Hogwarts was littered with the hearts of boys Bella'd stolen from her grasp and Cissy didn't want another added to that list, least of all a delicious little number she'd already had a 'feel' for…

But she and Andy left nonetheless.

o0OoO0o

Orion Black sat in a padded wing chair in front of the hearth scanning lazily through an ancient tome of Dark Arts rituals. The easy silence of the library often helped him think and with Grimmauld full to the rafters with children he desperately needed solitude. Walburga was on one of her tears again, no doubt hounding Bellatrix or Andromeda to agree to a meeting with some stupid Pureblood heir. As if he would allow one of the simpletons to marry any member of his family! Ha, that upstart son of Tyberius…Lucius he thought was the ponce's name…thought to sniff around his youngest niece? No boy unable to defend himself against surprise hexes in the middle of the night was going anywhere near his favorite niece. He'd jumped the upstart last month at Malfoy Manor under Tyberius' watchful eye and the boy's showing was pitiful! No, Lucius was more bark than bite.

A pity that before the end of the summer he'd have to pop Narcissa's cherry. It was tradition, although a sometimes unpleasant one, that the Black of Black deflower the daughters of Black properly unless other arrangements were made. Personally, Orion didn't like the tradition and he had yet to perform it since Bellatrix and Andromeda had already been broken by their thirteenth year but Narcissa? She was pure as the driven snow and had no paramours to speak of – at least to his knowledge and his knowledge was vast.

With Sirius going into his second year (in Gryffindor no less) and Walburga's behavior towards their first-born growing more and more violently abusive, Orion had jumped at the chance to house his three nieces for the summer. He thought that first it would give Walburga something else to dwell on and second give him some time alone with the girls to feel out how they would increase the prestige of the House of Black. The first worked beautifully but the second was proving more difficult. Andromeda was gone for most of the day at a part-time job for the summer, Narcissa helped her aunt, and Bellatrix lounged around generally making a nuisance of herself.

"…Master Black?" Kreacher's voice broke the old man's line of thought. "I do not mean to disturb…"

"No need, Kreacher, I was not doing anything important. What is it?"

The elf twiddled his knobby fingers and looked sideways at his master. "There is something you must know…there is another Master Black."

Orion's eyebrows drew down as his icy grey-blue eyes narrowed. "I am the Lord Black, Kreacher, the only, where is there another?"

"He has ring, Master Orion, he has power over wards. Kreacher must do as other Master commands; Black House magic makes Kreacher obey." The elf pointed to the heavy onyx signet ring on Orion's finger. "Same ring…same magic calls to elves of House Black."

"Where is this second Lord Black?" Millions of possibilities ran through the old man's head, none of which comprised even the thought of his elf lying to him – the magic of House Black was impossible to duplicate.

"Other Master is being inside house, Master Orion. Mistresses Bell, Cissy, and Andy be keeping him upstairs."

Hmm…so his nieces were making their power play? He suspected Bellatrix would try but not so soon, he anticipated her challenge to come at Christmas so the entire family could witness her attempt. She'd grown angry that he and her father, Cygnus, were controlling her allowance (like any teenager he supposed) and wanted early emancipation. But how could any of them have created a counterfeit ring? It wasn't possible. There was only one spare signet and it was safely hidden in the main Black Family Vault accessible only to him.

"Take me to them."

o0OoO0o

Andromeda kicked her leg rhythmically in her chair opposite Narcissa before the modest fireplace outside their bedroom. They hadn't heard any screams or moans or cries from the closed door. They had a significant leg up in terms of information on the so-called 'Lord' Voldemort but nothing specific – nothing that she could use to broker her freedom. And certainly nothing she could use to buy her way into Dumbledore's camp headed by the sour-faced mummy Millicent Bagnold. It was 1968, the world was ready for more than Bagnold's tired old post-Grindlewald policies – they needed new progressive laws to crack open the nepotism of Pureblood supremacy. The saucy young up-and-comer in the DMLE…what was her name – Amelia Bones…looked to be making a big splash among the rank-and-file Aurors.

Not that she had inroads with law enforcement by any means. By virtue of her 'job' she sometimes brushed elbows (or other body parts) with Aurors and they traded small talk in her doorway. The ranks were filled with more and more Muggleborns as the years went on and they expressed a barely-restrained fury at their treatment under Bagnold's administration. According to two handsome trainees she occasionally sold lap dances to this Amelia Bones, despite being a Pureblood, was pushing a meritocracy-based DMLE overhaul. Stripping brought in pretty good galleons, although if she turned tricks the money would increase exponentially, but the real value to working was all the delicious little bits and pieces of information she could sift. Even if she wasn't espousing the Pureblood agenda like some others she was at heart a Slytherin and knew that information was a currency greater than gold.

She needed a lot more to go on before she stretched her neck out in the breeze. Now this Harry Black was too good to be true, a neutral 'Lord' working to oppose both camps? A handsome devil-may-care lady-killer with a cock that went on forever and that wind-blown hair that sent pleasant tingles to her nipples? Count her in! He was intelligent and knew his way around negotiations but maybe that was the whole point; maybe he was too good to be true. Maybe the whole Black Head Ring and power over Kreacher were just ploys to get into her knickers…all their knickers! Maybe he was a dupe sent to infiltrate their ranks for either Voldemort or Dumbledore? After all, how could anyone prove they were from the future and went backwards in time? Now with time to think the whole situation did seem too good to be true and to think she'd almost fallen for it! Everything that Harry told them had to be checked and re-checked to ensure its authenticity before she'd believe a word from his mouth.

He was good with Bella, though, and that had to count for something. Bella didn't warm up to strangers very well, her first contact with Harry being a prime example of that, but she already had an easy familiarity with the boy.

The door abruptly opening tore her from such thoughts. She knew she'd cast the most powerful locking charm she knew on the door for someone or something to have torn through it like nothing-

"Where is he?" It had to be her uncle. "Where is this upstart you think is the Black of Black?"

"Uncle Orion! I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Don't bullshit me, Narcissa," he cut her excuses off with a dismissive wave, "you and your sisters are making your little power-play in my house!? Do you even realize how much audacity that takes? I'd be impressed at the bravery of this act if I wasn't totally insulted by the stupidity of your plan. Kreacher told me about the counterfeit, but what I really want to know is how you three made it so perfect. I can't detect your 'Lord Black' through the wards and I can't expel him – good work."

"Uncle Orion I assure you that we had nothing to do with any of this! Bella-"

The bedroom door opened with a thunderous roar of displaced air and Harry strode out with Bellatrix wrapped around his forearm. "Orion Black, Lord Black, Black of Black, I prostrate myself before your august majesty. I am merely a pretender to your worthy throne – my name is Harry Black and I am also Lord Black, Black of Black, but from a future thirty years hence. I was adopted into the House of Black by blood through _sanguinem meum sanguinem_ and am also Lord Slytherin. I have fought and defeated the self-styled Lord Voldemort three times and offer my services in ridding the current time of his Mudblood filth."

Orion looked upon the young boy (or rather man) standing before him, his eldest niece looking more than comfortable hanging off his arm, and took in the small details. He was known for meticulous attention to such details, it was such attention that allowed him to control a majority voting bloc of the Wizengamot despite not truly sitting for a vote. Black hair, full and glossy like a true black, green eyes likely inherited from the Greengrass Family, strong muscled body likely hardened through extensive dueling or Quidditch, and the platinum-tipped wand of Arcturus Black himself. Quite a picture and if wasn't the Black of Black he was sure the image would have resulted in instant obedience.

"You speak well, young Harry Black, and I welcome you to the ancestral home of the Blacks. If you are from the future then perhaps we can sit down and discuss business to ensure the line of Black is secure. If I may, I would like to see your House Ring." Bella's eyes bore down on her uncle and her grip tightened enough to redden Harry's arm. "I welcome you and offer you a place among my family until you can return to your own time."

"Your generosity is greatly appreciated, Orion, and I would be overjoyed to spend time with you and your beautiful family." Harry extended his right hand and allowed the older man to gaze directly into the stone. He felt a sympathetic twinge of magic echo from the walls of the house. It was true. "I will be researching ways to return to my time but it may be a long time if at all. I'll try not to step on your toes."

"Okay, so wait just one bloody minute! This guy just shows up and says he's from the future and the he's the Head of Black and you just accept it?! Uncle Orion have YOU LOST YOUR MIND!?" Narcissa shot out of her chair and pulled Bella away. "You can't really say that you believe this guy's cock-and-bull story!"

Orion's hand knocked Narcissa back before the sound of his easy backhand shattered through the air. "Watch your language young lady or I will be sorely tempted to invoke my rights as Black of Black regarding your chastity. It is not an experience I would believe you would find pleasant. Harry, here, is truly a Black of Black – but not THE Black of Black, I don't even think we could use that anymore now that there are two of us…"

"Believe me when I say I want nothing to do with the politics of being Black of Black, Orion, I'm merely Lord Black through a complicated series of coincidences. You are THE Black of Black but how do you plan on putting this over the rest of your family? Bella, Andy, and Cissy here all know about me but the rest? What're you going to tell them?"

"You're a long lost member of the family from the Continent, Brussels perhaps? If I say it's so then it's so…nobody will question me. And," at this he glanced at the assembled nieces, "I believe his story because he bears the Ring. You can't fake blood, girls, and you can't fool the Goblins. He bears the true ring, just as I do, and I can feel coils of Goblin magic surrounding him. I assume you've visited the family vault?"

"But of course. How else do you think I got this?" Harry twirled the oak and platinum wand between his fingers. "Spoils of war."

"Very well. Come downstairs with me, Harry, and perhaps we can find some clues to help you return to the future." Orion pressed a hand to Harry's bare chest as he stepped forward. "But I insist you put some clothes on before you come downstairs. My nieces may enjoy seeing you in only underwear but I fear my wife would either have a heart attack or jump your bones on the spot."

Harry barked out a harsh laugh (just like Sirius) and turned back to the bedroom.

"Frankly Orion I don't know which possibility scares me more."

-To be Continued-


	4. Chapter 4 (Revised 122612)

Author's Notes (10/26/12):

Sorry this took so long but I wasn't exactly sure how to proceed with this chapter. As you will soon see I did something I'm not sure everyone's going to be happy about (but I'm sure I'll hear all about it in the comments). This was originally going to be a longer chapter but in order to release something after so long I'm posting this shortened version. As always, read and review!

Author's Notes (12/26/12):

Sorry the latest chapter is taking so long to come out and unfortunately it isn't due to length but rather lack of time – but rest assured it will be released soon! To that end I need to make some changes to this chapter so please watch for "(revised xx/xx/xx)" notations next to chapter titles when you read the latest chapter!

o0OoO0o

"So Riddle or Slytherin placed a time-displacement spell on the locket so when you tried to destroy it suddenly you were here? I admit it does sound far-fetched but this is magic we're dealing with…anything is possible." Orion and Harry were seated at the far end of the grand mahogany dining room table facing each other as they spoke. The Black Sisters were huddled at the opposite end whispering amongst themselves. "So that is nearly thirty years in the future. I recognize that the House of Black surely fell in the time but what of Magical Britian in general?"

"Falling slowly since the current administration. I actually wonder if the time-displacement wasn't a trap by Riddle or Slytherin but a facet of Gryffindor's sword since it occurs to me that this is the perfect time to enact changes to Riddle's history. Bagnold is still in office, Voldemort has yet to announce himself to the public at large, and the key players in the upcoming war are still young and…malleable." Harry finished his glass of wine. "I won't tell you many specifics but I will warn you to treat your three nieces well and keep them away from the scions of Malfoy and Lestrange; the three are all important pieces to Riddle and Dumbledore."

Orion finished his own glass and poured them both another. Thinking for a moment, his gray eyebrows furrowed in harsh decisions and harsher consequences, he gestured to the sisters and they moved up the table. Orion took the head seat while Harry and Bellatrix sat beside each other on his right hand while Andromeda and Narcissa sat on his left. "I have decided that the House of Black cannot weather this storm alone, Harry's information has revealed that the weaker Pureblood families plot to divide and conquer us through the next several generations. Voldemort will make his move to unite the supremacists into a single camp and attempt to gain the support of House Black in this insane scheme of his – we will refuse outright. Bella, that goes especially for you, I will not have anything like what you became in my House."

Bella lowered her eyes. She was angry at Harry for bursting her happy bubble of delusion but also grateful that she didn't have to become a breeder whore for the criminally insane. It took just one crippling moment of weakness and she was in it for life – now that she knew what was truly going on she wouldn't make that mistake.

"Moving on," Orion continued, "Harry will live here while we discuss strategies for the coming war. I shall introduce him as a member of the offshoot Devries Family from Belgium, lost since the Schism and in possession of the second House Ring. Harry, I want you to limit your use of the ring, though, I don't want you to use it unless you absolutely have to and only briefly at that."

Harry nodded.

"Now I'm sure that once Walburga and Druella catch a whiff of Harry's power they will start making arrangements to bring him into the main Black Family by any means necessary. I'm sure the pair would be more than happy to bear your children and give us all new blood but I think betrothing you to one of my nieces might be the best way of ensuring you survive past your twentieth year. My wife and cousin are not very…accommodating…with their desires. If they wished you would be dead from exhaustion before they even considered stopping – utterly insatiable animals they are sometimes. Not that I am commanding you not to touch them, I'm sure they will be extremely personal in their welcoming ceremony for a new member of house, but I ask you to limit your time for your own good.

"Now since you have information about future investments that would bring this House back into financial standing with the upstart Malfoys and Notts I propose an alliance between you, Harry, and one of my nieces. The contract will be in effect for any of them until you make your decision and your privillages will be 'full use' in the broadest interpretation," the older man winked at Narcissa and then, as if his earlier statement wasn't blunt enough pronounced, "you are my silent partner as Black of Black with all the responsibilities and boons thereof…including marital relations with members of this family."

Harry sipped his fourth glass of wine as Orion continued. Narcissa's foot, slowly circling its way up his shin during the elder Black's speech, suddenly zoomed directly into his crotch and he had to applaud the dexterity of her toes that she was able to pull down his zipper. This was just crazy, this whole situation was getting out of control! At first he just wanted to get out of the house before the possibilities of removing two key players from Voldemort's camp became too good to resist. Then he'd comforted Bellatrix of all people – a strange situation no matter how you sliced it – and found Orion's easy acceptance of his tale of time travel. Was this all too easy? Yes, there was no amount of luck great enough to convince four people of the validity of his story in less than 24 hours; hell, he didn't even believe the story!

Now he was Black in name and magic (or so Orion made it out during their initial conversation) and about to become betrothed to one of the three Black Sisters with permission to bed Orion's wife and Cygnus' wife – his own fiancees' mother! Where did he go so wrong? He was just a poor boy from Little Whinging who wanted to kill Voldemort and escape Magical Britain and sit on a beach somewhere warm and sip alcoholic drinks in the sun. A Simple boy with simple pleasures – not a political mastermind going to turn the established Pureblood hierarchy upside-down and bed himself several Pureblood women. Although the bedding part didn't sound so bad…

"Thank you Lord Orion, this kind of acceptance was farthest from my mind when we first sat down here but I would be honored to take one of your beautiful nieces as a wife. I am allowed mistresses as well am I not?" Orion nodded. "Well the House of Black may just prosper yet. I would ask that you look into the genetics angle we discussed earlier, Orion, and let me know what you think. I believe that it holds the key to not only the decline of House Black but also its resurrection as the central power in the Magical World." Harry pushed Cissy's foot away and zipped his pants before standing from the table. "I beg a few hours of solitude now, this situation is new to me and I would like to think on it…I shall return by breakfast tomorrow."

At that he disapperated.

o0OoO0o

Life in Woking was nothing like life in Sheffeld. Gone were blue skies and grassy meadows and cresting hillocks, all replaced with smoggy urban apartments and rainy skies and hard asphalt streets – far from the idyllic paradise her father had promised. Christmas brought out more humanity in the urban sprawl but she missed cold winter afternoons in front of the fireplace in their old house. Not to mention the fact that the smallish apartment meant even more time spent in close proximity to Petunia.

Lily Evans sat on a bench in the 'park' across from their apartment building. Four trees and a copper birdbath did not a park make in her mind and the pathetic showing only increased her depression. She realized that the family had to move for her father's job but why'd she have to dump all her friends and move into a stinking urban cesspool! If she wasn't going to Hogwarts for 70 percent of the year it would be impossible to live with Petunia's screaming and crying. Her younger sister wasn't taking the situation well at all, she wanted Lily there all the time and didn't understand why she couldn't either go to Hogwarts or why Lily couldn't go to the public primary.. Lily feigned happiness as her parents doted on her but the act became trying after so long, hence her quiet moments in the park. Honestly, even with Severus things were getting completely out-of-hand! With her school life a wreck of immature teasing and Severus' increasingly pushy appeals to sign into a marriage contract with his family 'for her protection' she was giving serious thought to running away. But then of course Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall would find her as quickly as she could run. It seemed like the only time she got away from all the pressures and eyes of adults and annoying little sisters was late at night in the playground.

Thus she was surprised when an older boy sauntered through the frosty air with a steaming cup of coffee and sat on the bench next to her. He was dressed in black and green with heavy-soled black leather boots and a stylish pea-coat buttoned-up flush to his muffler (which was red and gold striped). Thick suede gloves clutched the cup and the steam rising from the lip fogged the lenses of his gold wire-frames. She eyed him warily but he didn't seem like a pervert or kidnapper and certainly not a dark wizard like Professor McGonagall had warned them about during the leaving feast before Christmas break. Maybe she was getting paranoid. Her bushy red hair lay surprisingly flat considering its usual springiness and she felt keenly aware that she'd forgotten a muffler.

"Excuse me? Miss," the unexpected sound of his voice echoed in the still moonlight, "would you like my scarf? It's pretty cold out here."

She looked at him. Older definitely, maybe by four or five years, with smooth black hair that looked silky and a disarming smile plus the same hint of mischief she'd seen in that annoying Potter brat's eyes all of last year. Honestly, all the boy did was insult her, calling her names ranging from 'know-it-all' to 'bookworm' to 'plain-jane no-friends' until finally reaching the zenith of 'bitch' before they parted ways pre-break. Of course what else would she expect from an eleven-year old _child_ caring more about throwing dung-bombs than matters of emotions or feelings…thinking about James Potter just got her so mad…!

"Uh…did you hear me? I'm not a molester or kidnapper or anything if that's what you're worried about."

"Sorry I was just deep in thought," she blushed in embarrassment and turned away, "I was just thinking about something else."

"Ah…deep thoughts bring you outside. I once had a friend who couldn't do any serious thinking unless she was outside. Oh, she could work things out well enough in a library or studying by herself but the deep questions…the serious stuff she couldn't wrap her head around unless she was outside looking at the sky. You remind me of her actually – I think it's your bushy hair." He laughed and walked over to sit beside her.

"Humph…I don't suppose if you were a molester you'd tell me anyway…telling somebody you aren't something is like asking a person not to think about elephants." Her teeth were chattering and the cool breeze blew across the bare nape of her neck. "But I think I will take you up on your offer of a scarf."

He uncoiled the knit wool from around his neck and draped it over her shoulders. "There you go; proper Gryffindor colors!"

She froze immediately. Despite McGonagall's warning she hadn't thought to bring her wand outside with her…stupid, stupid, stupid thing to do Lily Evans! All that book smart and not enough common sense to realize a war was brewing and she was a target. This guy was probably a Pureblood looking to abduct her for vicious indecent sexual slavery or torture or being drawn-and-quartered or-

"Don't mean to pop your bubble, girl, but I'm not here for any nefarious purpose – I just took a walk and ended up here. You being a witch had nothing to do with my offer or the coincidence of me walking into this park." He duplicated the cup of coffee in his hand and bent her numb fingers around the cup. "You do remember McGonagall's lecture in first year about sympathetic mystical fields? I didn't realize you were a witch until I sat down beside you."

Lily gripped the cardboard cup tightly, not tightly enough to crumple and therefore spill the contents, and turned to face him only to find green eyes of a shade darker than her own staring back. He tipped his cup and winked at her scrutiny. She blushed again, quickly turning away, and sipped the cup of strong sweet coffee to cover her own embarrassment.

"So I'm guessing you're in either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor so which one is it?"

"I don't recall seeing you at Hogwarts before," she countered, "I think I'd recognize your face."

"Good one, asking probing questions to find out how well-constructed my cover story is…exactly what I'd expect from a smart girl like yourself. To answer your question I don't attend Hogwarts at the moment, I'm from the Continent actually, but the rest of my family does or did so I hear a lot of stories about the place. So which is it? Ravenclaw or Gryffindor?"

The coffee warmed her insides while the muffler grew almost intolerably hot against the back of her neck; who was this boy? How did he know how she liked her coffee? "I'm a Gryffindor! It's an illustrious house and one that fostered the educations of individuals such as Albus Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel in their respective times!"

"And did you read that in _Hogwarts: A History_?"

"Of course! It's the most exhaustive study of the school and grounds ever made! Each edition is completely different than the others in terms of chapter placement if not actual material, and the supplementary materials are constantly being updated with the latest class rosters and faculty changes."

"But, and forgive me if I'm wrong, each new edition cost 2-4 galleons and the updates each year shouldn't really matter to you since you're living at Hogwarts. Am I right?" He sipped at his cup. "So it sounds to me like you're paying more each year than your parents make in a week just to read about a whole lotta nothing. But hey, economics – right?"

He was right. Book smart but lacking crucial common sense, that was Lily, and now she'd wasted good money (pounds converted to galleons) for a blow-by-blow account of everything she'd experienced in her first year at Hogwarts. She witnessed Sirius Black sorted into Gryffindor – the first Black to go anywhere other than Slytherin in twenty generations – she didn't need a book to tell her the academic underpinnings of that sorting she lived with them every day.

Harry watched the bushy-haired green-eyed mixture of Hermione Granger and Susan Bones visibly wilt under the weight of insecurity. She was so like Hermione it made his heart hurt. Looking at her up close now he couldn't see the relation between himself and the twelve-year old, even his eyes that Snape and Slughorn and just about everyone else commented were 'exactly like his mothers' were a darker tone with wrinkles beyond his years around the edges. They were no relation. And if he was truly in the past and not some identical alternate dimension like something out of Hermione's guilty pleasure sci-fi novels he had created a divergence already what was one more? Or two or three?

"Come on now, don't cry," wrapping an arm around her slim shoulders he grabbed the wobbling cup of coffee from her fingers, "I didn't mean anything by it…just the difference between Magicals and Muggles. We don't think things through like Muggles – we just accept that anything is needed just because it's available instead of wondering the root cause of people wanting us to buy it."

Lily crumpled into his chest in a fit of sobs and all he could do was rock her slowly back and forth. What the fuck was he doing? He didn't know the first thing about comforting women!

Elsewhere Andromeda and Narcissa sneezed for no apparent reason.

"I know that people like you have a lot of stuff floating around in your heads, thoughts and plots, and I know that sometimes it's hard to face reality so you wrap yourself in a cloak of thoughts to hide the problems right in front of you. My best friend, she was just like you – right down to the bushy hair – and she could be so stubborn in refusing to see the truth right in front of her eyes. She would go on with long-term plans and schedules then would get so angry when they didn't turn out right in reality. The tantrums she used to have! Heh…but that's not what your problem is, is it? She was bullied too by people who thought themselves better than her but I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told her: don't listen to them! They're selfish, arrogant, conceited morons who aren't anywhere close to how brilliant you are."

Lily's sobs faded into his shirt but her little hands still clenched the loose sleeves of his coat. "And…and what did she say?"

Harry's mind clouded over into a haze of sex. Oh, Hermione had been very thankful for his words after Ron left so much so that the first thing she'd done was grab his crotch and tear off his shirt. "Uh…well she didn't say anything exactly but she bounced right back and proved them all wrong. Her behavior told me that she'd heard me and understood…she was very grateful."

"And she was like me? What was her name?"

"Her name was Hermione…and she was exactly like you – well maybe her front teeth were a little bigger." Harry was just thankful his mother had stopped crying. Jesus, time travel just screwed up everything! She wasn't his mother, not yet, and may not even be considering his actions already changed the future. Bellatrix Black would ever become Bellatrix Lestrange which should have already invalidated his existence. The fact that he was still alive and able to ponder such questions meant (to his limited understanding of temporal mechanics) he would continue to live no matter what changes he enacted. Then and there he decided that Lily Evans with her bushy red hair and iridescent green eyes and slightly upturned nose was not Lily Evans-Potter his mother.

"What happened to her? You sound sad when you talk about her." Lily rubbed her face against the chest of his pea-coat and slipped her arms around his waist. There was definitely something familiar about him. It wasn't anything physical…he just felt familiar but she couldn't put her finger on what exactly hit her. He smelled like fresh cut grass unlike any other member of her family. It was an alien smell but comforting. "Was she killed?"

"She disappeared some time ago. One moment she was there, the next I couldn't find her…she's long gone now." Harry hugged her and smoothed her hair. "I miss her. Especially on nights like this when I meet someone who could be her twin."

"What was she like?"

"Well, she was smart – the brightest witch of her age – and scary powerful. She could cast the _alohamora_ as a firstie and brewed polyjuice alone in her second year. She had the bushiest hair you can imagine and used to love giving rib-crushing hugs." Harry slowly eased the girl back into her original seat and handed her back the coffee.

"Lots of people are calling me the brightest witch of my age! And I unlocked James Potter's trunk with an _alohamora_ while he was carrying it down the stairs at Christmas! Do you think I can brew polyjuice next year?"

Harry smiled and ruffled the girl's hair. "Well I think only you can tell if you can make polyjuice. Hermione read all about the potion for two months before she felt confident enough in theory to attempt the practical. Don't rush things just because other people succeeded – they were themselves and you are yourself – take life at your own pace."

Then it hit him.

"Wait just a minute, you're a firstie?"

"Oh I'm so sorry I didn't introduce myself. My name is Lily Evans and I'm a first year Gryffindor."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lily, I'm Harry Black." Immediately her expression darkened.

"Relation to Sirius Black? Or those insufferable Black Sisters?" Clearly something was very wrong with the timeline as Harry knew it; his mother and father hadn't started Hogwarts until Andromeda was a seventh year. Bellatrix was in the last semester of her seventh now which meant that something pushed his parents' generation up three years. What that entailed for his future was uncertain but a change that big carried with it bigger changes for his time. Then again, if his parents were older it could mean more members of the Order of the Phoenix to fight Voldemort when he finally announced himself…

"Er…cousins, several times removed. I hope they haven't given you any trouble? I know Sirius can be a handful." And that was understatement of truly epic proportions.

"He's fine by himself but when he's with that friend of his, James-fucking-Potter, he gets so far up my ass I want to vomit."

Now there was diffinitely something different. Lily Potter had a potty mouth? Maybe he was just wrapping her up in the same packaging as Hermione but he figured she'd be straight-laced and proper…not swearing like a sailor at 12 with a total stranger in the middle of Woking.

"And that Potter prick just makes me want to take that stupid toad of his and shove it up one of his snooty nostrils until he can't even think about talking with me! And the way they treat Sev is simply deplorable! How they get away with it right under the noses of the professors is criminal! Stealing a boy's pants and suspending him from the ceiling of the Great Hall goes beyond the standard definition of a prank, Headmaster Dumbledore…what a sanctimonious fuck!" Once she finished her venting she realized how glassy-eyed Harry'd gone. "Oh come on, Black, I'm a big girl – I've read all the classics and contemporary fiction. I've been reading from the adult section since I was four, I know what those swears mean. Certain things just make me so angry the only way I can vent is with profanity. Childish I know but I can't help it…Professor McGonagall took over twenty points from me this semester for 'profane language unbecoming a proper witch' but gave me almost double that for excelling in transfiguration."

"I bet you turned your matchstick into a needle on the first try." Shaking his head as the fairy-tale image of his parents he'd nursed since Hagrid gave him the photo album shattered into thick pieces of shit, Harry smirked and ruffled the puffed-up girl's hair. "And I bet your parents let you drink wine when they go out like a respectable adult and don't give you a curfew – am I right?"

Her blush was answer enough.

"Ha ha…well I know how that is…but I don't think you'll be alone for much longer. I think I'll be starting Hogwarts next year as an exchange student so at least I know I have one friendly face at the school. So chin-up Miss Evans, I can promise you that things will get better." Before they get oh so much worse, he thought to himself. She slid closer to him and finished her coffee in three great gulps that made his muffler bob up and down with the violent force of her throat movements. He simply sipped at his now lukewarm drink and embraced her in a friendly one-armed hug.

Under the smoggy skies of Woking two days before Christmas Harry James Potter-Black held the silently shivering shoulders of Lily Evans and realized with terrifying clarity the path laid out before him. He felt powerless against the weight of the universe – not an uncommon feeling since the rise of Voldemort in his own time – and made a promise to Merlin and God and The Fates that he would do whatever he could to stop the devastating war laid out before him. It may not mean much and he didn't put any stock in deities but it made him feel better. When Lily set her cup down on the bench and brushed frost from her sleeves and thanked him for the scarf he waved it off as a gift. When she pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, her short stature only getting her arms around his waist, and tottled off towards her apartment block he felt a weight lift from his conscience.

With her bright smile in his mind Harry knew he'd made the right decision.

-To Be Continued-


	5. Chapter 5

-Author's Notes (10/31/12)-

Once again I've been getting some reviews bemoaning the size of the teaser chapters. Due to the way I've been updating (posting a chapter and then posting a teaser) when I upload the full version of a chapter I'm not sure if anyone receives notification that the story's been updated (if one of my kind readers could confirm or deny that would be lovely) so I upload a sneak peak to spur 's system to notify people. In the future I suppose I'll endeavor to post a whole chapter when I finally get around to finishing this one. My new job is in publishing so I'm typing a fair deal during the day but on the plus side I've got a lot more free time to write fanfiction and my own original fiction (still trying to find a happy medium between the two). Anyway, on to the story! Also, one more note: a reviewer asked why Harry isn't putting up more of a fight regarding his imminent deflowering of Narcissa. To this I respond thusly: Harry doesn't know about Narcissa's plan. Another reviewer brought up Harry's wandless magic and that my friends is all my fault.

o0OoO0o

Clearly Harry had made the wrong decision.

Orion agreed that he had to enroll at Hogwarts come the fall if only to keep an eye on the horrors brooding beneath the surface of the institution. He agreed to arrange the transfer with the Ministry through Cygnus and told Harry in no uncertain terms that he would be formally introduced to the family on Christmas Day. He was given the spare bedroom in the attic, one of the four the Black Sisters weren't using during winter break, and was ordered to lay low until Christmas Day. No one could see him save Orion himself, the sisters, or Kreacher.

The day before Christmas Orion went over several investments with him, solidifying the Black fortune in the Muggle World, and they began to tentatively plot the demise of the current Magical Government. They had an entire semester to train Harry above and beyond the combat abilities of the Auror Corps. And bring him up to date on the curriculum of Hogwarts. He would be tutored and would take his NEWTS before arriving at Hogwarts in September but the results would be withheld until the end of the year, effectively giving him carte blanche during the school semesters to infiltrate the social strata of Wizarding Britain. Orion rubbed his hands together in glee when he realized that Harry was a natural Occulemens and that meant the two could pull one over on Albus Dumbledore. Harry simply smirked at the news, knowing that it was a side-effect of Voldemort's aborted possession at the Ministry of Magic in his fifth year and the only good thing to come from that debacle.

On the Black side of things Bellatrix spent the day before Christmas in the library studying ancient dueling techniques, Andromeda promptly quit her job stripping in the alley, and Narcissa was prone to jumping Harry at any and all opportunities. The three were Harry and Orion's only confidants in their scheme and as such the aged Black of Black trusted them with the limited use of vault funds. The trio would never want for money again so they didn't need jobs…ever. Bellatrix and Andromeda realized what their uncle meant and diligently decided that they would help Harry in his mission and possibly help him repopulate the Wizarding World when the battle was over. Narcissa, however, was impatient with youth and wasn't going to wait for the end of the war to jump their delicious time-displaced family member's bone. Unsupervised she was prone to walk about naked in front of their guest in the suite of rooms in the attic of Number 12, when her sisters were present she made do with tight outfits and no undergarments. Harry didn't think he'd make it the two days until Christmas Day without accidentally ending up with his prick balls deep in the blonde before Bellatrix and Andromeda convinced Narcissa to wait.

Now that Narcissa's Snatch of Damocles was finished hanging over his crotch, Harry spent the day before Christmas in Diagon Alley under heavy glamours. Thankfully his time on the run gave him fantastic places where dark items or dark people tended to congregate. It was a simple matter to flash galleons and get the items he wanted even on Christmas Eve. In truth he was impressed with himself that his acting skills had improved so much and was doubly thankful to Hermione for convincing him to school his poker face.

Christmas Eve was spent alone in the suite with a succulent roast prepared by Kreacher and a book on dark curses from the Black library. He drank nearly an entire bottle of wine by himself before the dessert course of fig pudding and finished with a cup of strong coffee and snifter of brandy with Orion and Cygnus in the former's study after the family meal.

"So this is the boy, hmm? I can't say he doesn't look impressive but do you think he looks appropriately 'Black'?" Cygnus was fatter and younger than Orion with a curled waxed moustache and gray eyes. Harry liked the man's jovial tone and easy-going attitude but also immediately realized why Orion was Black of Black. Still, the man was powerful politically; while Cygnus wielded the Black Family name as an assassin's dagger, Orion used it as a scepter of state. "Certainly has the hair down, and the eyes I suppose, but can he…ahem…talk the talk as well as walk the walk?"

Harry answered in parseltongue and two black cobras he'd transfigured moments before coiled up Cygnus' legs where they were camoflagued by the carpet. Instead of shivering or pissing himself in terror like any other Pureblood Harry had the poor association to know, Cygnus chortled and told them to get off of him…in a series of hisses.

"Always glad to see the Black Family's history of parselmouths continues into the future, boy, there are too few of us as it is!" The portly man gulped his brandy and sunk into a high-backed chair in front of Orion's desk. "All that nonsense about only Slytherin's descendants having the ability? Utter hogwash! There hasn't been a period of three generations of Blacks where at least one didn't have the ability. I was the last until you, boy, but my great-great-grandfather once boasted about opening some heirloom of Slytherin's using the ability. No, I think you can certainly pass as one of us – provided the Goblins play the game."

"I already explained to Cygnus what happened with Bellatrix at the bank but if you could perhaps…?"

Silently Harry willed the Black Ring to appear on his right hand and held it up to the younger Black brother's scrutiny. Orion and he had already spoken with Grimtooth and Gutwrencher at Gringotts about how the power of The Black of Black would be divided and the goblins reluctantly agreed on the condition that Harry give them two stock tips in the Muggle world. He gave them Intel and Nintendo, of course they couldn't use them for another twenty or so years but the Goblins were patient creatures when it came to riches, so their investments would not interfere with the tips he would give Orion.

"Holy cricket! If I hadn't seen the ring on your finger at dinner, Orion, I'd say he has the original!" The rotund Black patriarch swallowed the last of his brandy and crossed to the fireplace for a refill. "So we're to play this completely straight? When will he make his grand entrance? At breakfast or lunch…or perhaps at dinner?"

Orion tapped his fingers against his cheek. "I already told Walburga I have a family surprise and that the girls are in on it…but the rest of the family is blissfully unaware. I think he should arrive in the morning after breakfast. You and I will be in the sitting room with Walburga and Druella as usual when you, Harry, floo in to let me know you're arriving behind schedule. The girls will be upstairs with their cousins and the children will be out from underfoot. Once you've introduced yourself and paid homage to our wives we shall introduce you to the children properly at lunch."

"Wonderful Orion! Arriving then will maximize the impact his sudden appearance beside us will create at lunch then the family can 'interrogate' him over dinner. I'm sure my girls will be more than happy to introduce him. However, there is the problem of the other families; I shudder to think what the Notts or Lestranges will make of this coup. Theodore Nott and Augustus Lestrange were already in talks with each of us regarding a union between their spawn and my daughters and we both know how adamant Tyberius is about getting Narcy for his fop of a son Lucius. They're about as powerful as stinking Muggles, Orion, and I will not have any of my daughters marrying Purebloods with less power than a squib! The only reason I listened to their proposals was the wealth of the families in question and the prestige."

"I know, Cygnus," Orion swirled his snifter, "but perhaps we have here another potential resource. Harry could be a powerful bargaining chip with some of the families we have yet to infiltrate – the Greengrasses, the Zabinis, and the Davis Clan spring to mind immediately. All three powerful commercially if not politically and all three with eligible female heirs…"

"You may have a point there, I wouldn't sign a breeding contract for any of my girls but I wouldn't put it past any of those fathers. Adrian Greengrass has been looking for a male heir and it's blatantly obvious the Zabini girl seeks for the opposite team. The Davis girl has a good head on her shoulders but lacks political capitol. If they could be persuaded to sign breeding contracts for Harry we might just swing this whole generation into our pockets without having to unzip our flies!"

Harry honestly couldn't believe he was actually listening to two men discuss throwing him to a pack of rabid women and impregnate them just to steal their families out from under their feet. He wasn't a breeder stallion rutting along a pen eager to hump anything with a vagina…was he? Maybe he'd reserve judgement until he saw the girls.

"The Greengrass and Zabini families will be here tomorrow anyway and anything Adrian Greengrass hears gets spilled into Josiah Davis' ears in due time." Orion sipped his brandy before turning to Harry. "What do you think of all this, Harry? I hardly think it's fair to expect you to bed three girls without any input…so to speak."

"I'm comfortable with your daughters, Cygnus, but I'll reserve judgement on the female heirs of the other families until I meet them. None of their heirs in my time were dark families, they were all neutral, but all were true Slytherin so it's hard for me to say whether they'll be on our side or Voldemort's. Nott and Lestrange as well as Malfoy are already in Riddle's pocket – of that I'm sure – so any kind of agreement with them is entirely suspect. What of the Wizengamot?"

"Excellent point, Harry," Cygnus nodded before pouring another drink, "Minister Bagnold is old and intractable but of stout working-class. In essence: an affront to the growing Pureblood majority's attitude that they should rule the Ministry. Now I agree that Bagnold's unchanging policy direction is stifling our government – she's still running a war economy in the midst of supposed 'peace' – but in terms of uplifting Muggleborns and Half-Bloods these are really starting to rankle the newer Purebloods. We Blacks have always known we were better than others simply by purity of breeding; we marry strong blood to strong blood and introduce Muggleborns into our subsidiary families before bringing their fresh blood into our main lineage. The Notts, Lestranges, Malfoys, Flints, Macnairs, and Parkinsons constitute the 'Most Noble' block of Pureblood votes yet none of the 'Ancient and Noble' houses such as the Potters, Bones, Abbots, or ourselves involve ourselves in their rhetoric. We are simply better than that."

"It boggles my mind that in some vague future I would ever consider an alliance with the House of Malfoy to be advantageous to the House of Black! Or the Lestranges! Madness! Their greedy insanity would dilute the power of our family. If I have anything to thank you for, Harry, it is the advanced warning against such insanity."

The time-tossed teen sat down beside Cygnus across from Orion and set his hands down on the armrests. He didn't trust his hands not to shake during the conversation. "That is actually something that crossed my mind more than once. Although my experience with your family in my time was pretty much just the insane portrait of your wife, your insane house elf, your insane niece Bellatrix, and your son Sirius, I never got the feeling that the House of Black was as dark as people said it was…it was clear you believed in Pureblood supremacy but little things I heard made me rethink the facts.

"Sirius once told me that you and your wife receded from public life after Regulus' death, that didn't strike me as something 'proper' Pureblood families such as the Malfoys would do. He also told me that you didn't share Walburga's obsession with 'Toujour Purs' and silently allowed him funds and support when he left your house to live with the Potters – also not the behavior of a Riddle-crony. So I have to throw this idea out there: do you think that Riddle brainwashed your wives into joining his cause? Then used them to leverage you two out of neutrality and firmly into his camp? I'm not talking about something like putting you under _imperious_ or anything but he was always very persuasive."

Orion and Cygnus shared a look – one that didn't make Harry feel good at all.

o0OoO0o

"Do you think this looks stupid?" Narcissa twirled in front of the full-length mirror in Andromeda's room. "It looks stupid, doesn't it? This whole plan is stupid, isn't it?"

Bellatrix sat with her arms and legs crossed on the bed, one foot twitching in irritation, and scowled at her youngest sister. Andromeda simply shrugged before continuing to primp her ebony locks at her dresser.

The sultry young Black wore a transparent sheer negligee made from premium Japanese Acromantula silk dyed indigo. That was it, no undergarments, no pasties, no pubic hair, just 100% Narcissa Black. She posed with her arms crossed and breasts squeezed together by her arms, her nipples were perky enough and the negligee created a soft shadow over her bare pudenda.

Suddenly, Andromeda's hands reached into the younger girl's long platinum hair and pulled the long strands into a twist against the nape of her neck.

"I think any man would melt before you, Cissy; you won't have any problems getting Harry to drink from your fountain." Cissy frowned before glancing under her fringe at their eldest sister who had taken to repeatedly demolishing and repairing a stuffed peacock. Andy caught the look and pressed her index and middle fingers into both sides of Narcissa's neck. "And don't pay any attention to what Little-Miss-Prissy-Pants over there says – we both know she's just jealous you get to go first."

"But what if I don't want him to drink from my fountain-"

"Shut it, 'Narcy'," Bella interrupted, "and take some advice: sucking from his peggo isn't everything it's cracked up to be – make him drink first then at least you know you've gotten something out of it."

"And what would you know about it? Not everyone treats a relationship like a power struggle! Merlin, you'd think I was going to let him bugger me the way you've been carrying on!" Narcissa shrugged off her older sister's hands and whirled on their eldest, her long hair already fizzling with unrestrained magic, before screeching in exasperation and storming out of the room.

"I don't know what's gotten into that girl! I'm just looking out for her! She shouldn't be sniffing around like a bitch in heat at the first good-looking wizard to show any interest." Bella huffed and threw her peacock across the room. Andy simply pinched the bridge of her nose and sat down beside her older sister – fully aware that what she was about to say could result in a particularly nasty hexing.

"And surely you aren't like that, right Bella? I mean, you'd have no interest in a powerful handsome wizard with political clout and a naïve streak a mile wide…would you?" Andromeda ducked Bella's haymaker before twirling to stand in front of her bed. "Don't lie to me, Bella, and certainly don't lie to yourself – you're actually jealous that Cissy's going to bed that young man, aren't you?"

"I'm about as interested in that lump of pond scum as I am in the contents of Lucy Malfoy's underpants." Bella summoned the peacock and started her dissection again. "He's conceited and arrogant and weak! I mean, you and I overpowered him! What kind of self-respecting wizard doesn't watch his own back? And that story of his about coming from the future? Dragondung! He's just a con artist looking to swindle Uncle Orion."

Andromeda pulled her wand and cast a quick _aguamenti_ at her sister, careful to dance outside her area of attack, before transfiguring the floor into golem hands locking her sister's ankles in place. "Now listen here, Bella, and listen well…I don't know what bizarre chain of illogic is running through your head but you need to stop and restart your brain. I admit that Harry's time travel story is far-fetched but we've both seen magic do some fantastic things before…great-aunt Honeywell giving birth to a sentient sausage, Uncle Mort living to five-hundred and six as a disembodied head, little cousin Tinny giving birth at age three…amazing things judged impossible by the world and yet we've seen them happen."

"Are you telling me you don't have any concerns with his story?" Bellatrix snarled out through gritted teeth. "He just appears spun from whole cloth with a Black Ring and we just roll over like some people," she pointedly glared out the door, "and let them bugger us bloody? Isn't happening…"

"You just keep telling yourself that…I've heard about your little experiments with Rastaban Lestrange…and Rodolphus. While I applaud your decision to keep your virginity intact, really now? The two of them? And how did they taste, sister dear?"

Andromeda's death came with the soft crinkle of Bella's bonds crumbling under a massive outpouring of pure magical rage. The eldest Black brandished her wand from it's disillusioned holster up the sleeve of her black blouse and knocked Andy through the wall separating her room from Narcissa's – and directly into the only other occupant of their Black Suite.

Harry had come up after his clandestine meeting with the Black Brothers fully intending to change into pajamas and a dressing gown, drink half a pot of mulled wine, eat two stuffed sugar plums, perhaps evade some minor sexual advances from Narcissa, and go to sleep. What he found when he entered the attic space was an intimate candlelit dessert of chocolates and red wine with Slutty Sister Black burning through him with a sultry gaze.

Maybe it was just the brandy he had downstairs with Orion, maybe it was the fact he hadn't experienced any sexual release (excepting the nocturnal kind) since he'd arrived in this time after getting it up to five times a day for nearly a month beforehand – whatever the case, Harry found himself sitting opposite Narcissa as she poured a liberal glass of thick wine into a stemless glass. Then he had three chocolates and fed her three chocolates; eventually he realized there was 100 year old firewhiskey in the center of each one.

But by the time he realized that the pair were walking through the doorway into Narcissa's room, Harry being easily led around by his flaring, drooling lower head as the younger girl's barely covered posterior wiggled enticingly with each step. Shadows hung heavy in the small room and various spicy scents tinged his nose. Two wide short everlasting candles burned like shimmering moonlight on either side of her bed – a bed that the blonde Black was already stretching out on…completely naked.

Whatever small bit of reason left in Harry head was quickly crushed under the boot heel of alcohol and lust. His balls felt like they were squirming in his pants and his erection threatened to burst the zipper on his pants with each agonizing pulse of blood redirected from his brain. Cissy scooted backwards on her velvet duvet cover until her bare scapula pressed hot against the cool wood headboard and kept her knees together but bent. Harry's hands began fumbling with his pants. "I'm ready to pop my Christmas cracker early, Harry…what about you?"

He could only nod as his pants finally pooled on the floor and he literally pounced on his prey, hands sliding up her silky legs (Madam Sleekezy's 'Personal' Hair-Removing Tonic for Witches – "Be as bare and soft as the belly of a Selkie") and rough fingertips probing the slick folds of her crotch. He didn't dare touch her mons itself for fear that the bubbling scalding wetness would trigger his own release prematurely. Hermione always teased him that he was the only boy in the world who could cum while eating a girl out and it was an unfortunate truth.

As was the unfortunate truth that Harry's magic was so powerful that it didn't matter that he had something of a hair-trigger – he could go on and on for a night and day. Something his previous bushy-haired (girl)friend found out the sore and hard way when they began their sexual relationship.

His fleshy trigger was already oozing drip after drip of pearlescent fluid all over Cissy's bed to match the dark puddle growing under its owner's bare bottom. Every time the firm bone in his wrist stroked her covered clit she saw sparkles and more fluid sluiced its way through her canal to slowly ooze out between her thick tight (as of yet) undeveloped labial lips. Lost in the haze of lust and wanting, her hot hand reached out to collect a few dollops of his juice before smearing it along his rod.

He seized as a balloon of white hot ecstasy burst behind his eyes, his testicles felt like they were spinning like Chinese medicine balls in the tight pouch of their sack, and he felt nearly a week's worth of sexless frustration (aside from taking it in hand so to speak) lance from the bottom of his belly out the tip of his pecker.

Precisely at the time Andromeda came crashing through the wall and slammed into his shoulder. Adrift in pleasurable agony, he spun on the sweaty sheets and braced his slick hands on the bed as his hips bucked wildly into an invisible lover. Like an over-shook bottle of soda a great steaming splash of glittering, magic-infused semen sprayed across the room to land on the far wall.

Or it would have if said wall was intact. Instead the bright steam of sparkling seed arced in the air directly into Bellatrix's snarling face as she stormed through the destroyed barrier in search of Andy. As soon as the spunk splashed in a fantastic explosion of energy and light against the eldest Black's nose she stopped. The semen was literally burning with energy, energy that thrummed in the inanimate fluid liberally caking her slinky black nightdress. Her pale skin felt scalded where the thick jelly smeared and ran like tallow but instinctually (she was after all the brightest witch of her generation, or at least the year) her tongue darted out, catching the barest edge of a runny rivulet and her body exploded in a soul-shattering orgasm. Her magic went from zero to one-hundred and twenty in 0.1 seconds, so much power she actually levitated a foot off the floor, her knickers poured forth a bounty of nectar they were unable to absorb, and a throaty purr issued from her seed-stained mouth.

Harry was himself seriously wool-headed as one of the most powerful orgasms of his young life slowly worked its way out of his system. He felt ripples of power, a buffet of sudden wind, then felt the strange out-of-body experience of flying.

Bellatrix Black turned sharply to her sisters, one naked on the bed and the other groaning on the floor, and simply waved a glowing hand. Instantly the two girls found themselves suspended in the air before being unceremoniously thrown into the common room. Harry was wandlessly tied to Narcissa's bed in thick coiled ropes of black silk spread-eagle with his dripping erection still standing proudly. Another wave of her hand repaired the destroyed wall and cast a mage-level shield spell against the walls, floor, and ceiling. No one was going to interrupt her fun…

Outside, the other two Black sisters pounded on the door, one in frustration and the other with worry, until they heard a shrill high-pitched scream from Harry's mouth followed by Bella's low chuckle. Cissy, still naked and wanting, sat down at the common table with a huff and viciously attacked a piece of fig cake. Andy remained just long enough for a rhythmic wet slapping noise to filter through the door before joining her sister in an early morning snack.

"This is a disaster! Now what am I going to do? I needed that!" Narcy gulped down a small cup of Bailey's Irish Cream (one of the few concessions to Muggles Orion allowed in the house) and swallowed half a slice of cake in one bite.

"Calm down is what you're going to do…the ceremony can be performed this whole day and night. I'll make sure he's at attention regardless of Bella's cruel tortures. Don't you trust my potion skills?"

"But I wanted it now! I even spiked those chocolates with Inhibition Destroyer."

"Please tell me you didn't go to Auntie Hemlock…"

"Well she was the only person I know who can brew it!"

Andy sipped her cup of coffee, savoring the hot bitterness on the flat of her tongue for a few blissful seconds, before sighing and draping a thin afghan around her nude sister's shoulders. Bella was probably going to be tasting quite a bit of hot bitterness tonight, she errantly thought with a smirk…

"Oh Cissy, Cissy, Cissy, I know you mean well but sometimes you have to think things through – really take a look at what's important to you and take your actions with that in mind. I know you want the power boost the ceremony can give you but you might have killed him! I realize what you're going through, really I do, I was your age once and I had an unhealthy curiosity about the opposite sex until Bella straightened me out. And I've got to say that Harry is infinitely more shaggable than Gideon Prewett. Just take your time, okay? He isn't going anywhere and besides, sometimes sloppy seconds can be the best thing."

Narcissa twisted her mouth and sipped her second Bailey's.

"Now don't give me that look young lady, let me share some secrets of the opposite sex I've learned."

"Where," Cissy interrupted with a scowl, "whoring yourself out on the Alley?"

"I'm going to ignore that just because I know you're upset. And for your information I never reveal my sources! Anyway, once a man pops it takes him longer to build it back up-"

"I don't see how that helps me…I don't want someone rubbing their disgusting flaccid cock all over my muffin…"

Andy snatched the mug of liquor out of her sister's hand and handed her a cup of coffee. "If you keep interrupting I won't tell you the secret. Now are you going to shut up? Good. Once he's back to full mast it takes a lot more to bring him off again, so let Bella pop him quick then you can just let him work you over for hours!"

"I suppose he did seem like a quickie…he was ready to pop as soon as I flashed my fanny…maybe you're right." Narcissa sipped her coffee and wrapped the blanket around her nudity. "Do you think mother will see through our deception?"

The sound of wood splintering and something heavy crashing to the floor came from the blonde's bedroom.

"This may actually work to our advantage…heh, I guess Bella did get to go first after all!"

-To be Continued-

No teaser chapter due to popular demand!


	6. Chapter 6

-Author's Notes-

Sorry for the long delay but this story is NOT on hiatus or ABANDONED! Finding time to write at work is somewhat problematic but writing at home isn't much of an option until I get a laptop. While reading through the previous chapters I realized that some of the dates and ages were wrong (although some of those are supposed to be wrong) so here's a handy guide to the ages and years of our main characters:

Harry Potter (17 years old): Born 1981, 7th Year at Hogwarts (Time Traveler)

Lucius Malfoy (19 years old) Born 1949, 7th Year at Hogwarts

Arthur Weasley (18 years old) Born 1950, 7th Year at Hogwarts

Bellatrix Black (17 years old): Born 1951, 7th Year at Hogwarts

Theodore Nott (17 years old) Born 1951, 7th Year at Hogwarts

Rastaban Lestrange (17 years old) Born 1951, 7th Year at Hogwarts

Rodolphus Lestrange (17 years old) Born 1951, 7th Year at Hogwarts

Amelia Bones (16 years old) Born 1952, 6th Year at Hogwarts

Hallafaiyr Greengrass (16 years old) Born 1952, 6th Year at Hogwarts

Zaira Zabini (16 years old) Born 1952, 6th Year at Hogwarts

Andromeda Black (15 years old): Born 1953, 5th Year at Hogwarts

Mary Margaret Davis (15 years old) Born 1953, 5th Year at Hogwarts

Narcissa Black (12 years old) Born 1955, 2nd Year at Hogwarts

Lily Evans (12 years old) Born 1956, 1st Year at Hogwarts

James Charlus Potter (11 years old) Born 1957, 1st Year at Hogwarts

Sirius Black (11 years old) Born 1957, 1st Year at Hogwarts

Remus Lupin (11 years old) Born 1957, 1st Year at Hogwarts

Peter Pettigrew (11 years old) Born 1957, 1st Year at Hogwarts

Severus Snape (11 years old) Born 1956, 1st Year at Hogwarts

Orion Black (40 years old) Born 1929, Black of Black

Walburga Black (44 years old) Born 1925, Unemployed

Cygnus Black (38 years old) Born 1931, Member of the Wizengamot

Druella Black (34 years old) Born 1935, Unemployed

Tyberius Malfoy (38 years old) Born 1931, Head of House Malfoy

Adrian Greengrass (55 years old) Born 1914, Head of House Greengrass

Josiah Davis (45 years old) Born 1924, Head of House Davis

Adalfieri Zabini (38 years old) Born 1953, Head of House Zabini

Bartemius Crouch Sr. (33 years old) Born 1936, Assistant to the Head of the DMLE

Bartemius Crouch Jr. (19 years old) Born 1951, Unemployed

Alastor Moody (29 years old) Born 1940, Senior Auror Captain

Appolline Nephele (23 years old) Born 1946, Courtesan

Molly Prewett (19 years old) Born 1949, Shopgirl at Honeydukes

Petunia Evans (10 years old) Born 1958, Youngest Daughter of Evans Family

Regulus Black (Not born)

I hope this helps everyone keep track. Also, this list retcons all previous chapters so if I mistakenly mention Regulus or specific ages of characters, everything comes back to this chart. All mistakes are mine.

Also, any intrepid artists interested on helping me world build a fantasy world full of Anime-inspired designs mixed with a western Harry-Potter-esque aesthetic? PM me for more details. Bonus points to people living in the Boston Area of Massachusetts.

Cheers!

Kaiton

o0OoO0o

"Where is that girl? Christmas morning and she lies all slug-a-bed! If she isn't down here in five minutes I'll tell Kreacher to clean up breakfast…that will teach her to be so willful!" Walburga Black sat poised and perfect in the sitting room of Number 12 Grimmauld Place with a cup and saucer clutched perfectly in her iron grip. On the table before her lay a spread of small sandwiches and cakes with a pot each of coffee and tea. Orion sat besides her gulping down cup after cup of coffee. Across from her sat Druella Black nee Rosier who scowled up at the ceiling – utterly infuriated that any flesh and blood of hers could embarrass her – while Cygnus poked the fire.

"Would you calm down, dear? I'm sure Trixie will be down momentarily." Orion poured himself another cup of coffee. 'She'd better be,' he thought, 'her reaction will determine how Druella and 'Burga take the news that we have long lost relatives.' "Where is Sirius?"

"He and that little ragamuffin friend of his…Lupin I believe was his name…are playing in the backyard with their potion kits. And what is wrong with you, Orion? You've been skittish all morning, you haven't eaten anything proper, and you've drunk two pots of coffee already. Are you hiding something?" Walburga sipped her cup of Darjeeling. She'd been married to the Black of Black for almost ten years and he was clearly agitated about something – of course it never occurred to her that he was simply acting nervous.

"Oh for the love of pudding, Ori, just tell her already," Cygnus blustered from the floo, "it doesn't matter anyway now that he's late."

Druella nibbled daintily on a shortbread biscuit and swallowed a sip of tea. She was well used to her husband keeping details from her, it was part of being a political creature she supposed, and to be honest it didn't bother her. He had never kept anything dangerous from her, nothing that would put her standing or their reputation on the line, so how bad could Orion's news be? Although if they had lost the Lestrange marriage agreement she would not be happy…

"Do tell us this news of yours, Orion," she said, "it is not anything bad, is it?"

The Black of Black stood up with his cup and gulped down the dregs to the evil eye of his wife. "I have been in communication with the final heir of the Devries Family, one of our offshoot lines from before The Schizm. He is the last of their line and the last true Black in Europe. With the rest of his family dead I have offered him a place with us and a marriage contract with one of Cygnus' daughters to bring his blood back into the fold."

"I don't see why that is such a big secret, Orion, we bring the branch families back into the bough all the time." Walburga set down her cup and saucer.

"Ah, well, there are other considerations," Cygnus interjected, tugging at his collar, "but the biggest issue is how late it is! He should have arrived hours ago…you don't think something untoward happened to him, do you?"

Druella rolled her eyes and stood up. At thirty-four years of age, four years her husband's junior, she looked the acme of Pureblood breeding: milky white skin, dark hair, blue eyes, and ruby lips. Her breasts were not overlarge but were noticeable in the slinky thin dresses she wore.

"As interesting as a new Black is for the future, I am far more concerned with the present. That lazy daughter of ours is going to come down here or by god I shall _incarcerous_ her and drag her down the stairs." And with that she swept out of the room leaving Walburga to harp at Orion and Cygnus for keeping secrets.

In fact, neither of her other daughters had made more than a token appearance at breakfast, slowly taking coffee and croissants upstairs, which made Druella all the more suspicious. She was well aware how sneaky her children could be and how intelligent all three were – if it weren't for the power Orion held over the Black Vaults there would be no way to keep them in check let alone dictate their actions. The Lestrange brothers were sniffing around her eldest's posterior like randy tomcats making a mockery of Pureblood etiquette. She didn't want to marry any of them off to the Notts or Lestranges or Malfoys but Cygnus' dangerous position in the Wizenagamot made political marriage a foregone conclusion. The Macnair family or the Flints would be better matches, after all they were older families, but neither had the raw fortune that the nouveau-rich upstarts boasted.

Although Cygnus was in Orion's inner circle there was no chance her husband would inherent more than a quarter of the Black Family's substantial overseas holdings after Orion stepped down or was killed. The little snot Sirius would inherit the lot upon their aged father's death leaving her side of the Black Family still dependant on the other for luxuries. She wanted to dictate her own fortune, she wanted to invest her own money where she willed, she wanted to have a summer cottage on the French Riviera and a palatial castle in Italy but all her money came from Orion and he was not about to allow her, Druella Rosier (for that was how he always addressed her), to touch any Black money. She and her family would be allowed to vacation with Orion and Walburga when they left for the Black estates around the world but it was dependant on Orion's schedule. Druella longed for the day she could simply up and leave for a summer home or lake house at the drop of a hat…

Her daughters were the key to that life. If she arranged marriages between her children and the rich weak-willed heirs of three old families she could effectively control a vast sum of money by proxy. Tyberius Malfoy was no slouch, nor was Theodore Nott but their children were fools – weak ponces with gold filled up in their heads and little else. But no, Bella just had to be difficult, Andromeda eager to escape away, and Narcissa hardly a social butterfly; which explained why Druella jumped at the chance to pass off her less-willing daughters to Lucius and Rudolphus. Why those two specifically she didn't know but she also was not one to look a gift hippogriff in the beak.

The attic suite was empty and the doors to all three rooms closed when she burst inside. Discarded cups and a tray of half-eaten scones taken from the sideboard earlier that morning sat on the round table in the middle of the common room but the whole floor was silent. Druella sniffed disdainfully at the mess and crossed to the first door.

"Bellatrix Dorea Lestrange! How can you be-?" The words died at the tip of her tongue before transforming into a high-pitched scream of outrage. How dare her meal ticket – err…eldest daughter screw around before marriage! But wait…Andromeda was in the messy bed, not Bellatrix! And she was completely naked! And what was that pearlescent sheen to her body?

No, it was not possible that some vile rapist broke into the ancestral Black Manor and took advantage of her daughter! Yet the window in the common room was open and a distinct line of miniscule droplets on the hard wood floors went between rooms. As rebellious as her daughters were Druella could not possibly believe that they would wantonly allow some honor-less libertine to rut with them like animals on Christmas Day of all days. Impossible! My God, and what if they became pregnant with some intolerable half-blood's child!? All her dreams of luxury and ease would vanish like plumes of floo powder.

Quickly she dashed into Andromeda's room, thinking that perhaps the two older girls simply swapped rooms in the night (and Dromeda was always the more promiscuous of the two), and beheld the image of her youngest passed out flat on her back. Likewise, a thick slug-trail of milky fluid was splashed on the sheet between her legs as if her body expelled the alien seed in a forceful gush.

It didn't make any sense! She had seen both her younger daughters take breakfast earlier that morning and although they seemed tired they certainly weren't freshly fucked. Which meant that the offending sexual dalliances of her two youngest must have occurred in the past two hours…

Now the tremors of fear became full-blown irrational madness. Stomping from the room she faced Narcissa's bedroom door and all but screamed '_Bombarda'_! The old oak door blasted into thousands of splinters and Druella Rosier-nee-Black stormed inside the darkened room. Her slippered foot slid in a puddle of liquid, the toes of said foot losing purchase on the wood floor through the covering of stitched silk, and she dove head-first into the darkness.

The bed was comfortable but the slickened rod of fleshy iron that slapped her wetly across the face was wonderful. How long had it been since Cygnus had last bedded her? How long had it been since she'd had more than Walburga's slippery tongue between her folds? God, the smell of the heavy cock filled her nostrils with the tang only cunt and cum mixed together could produce. The gusset of her designer Pierre Cardin lace panties almost tore from the forceful torrent of juice ejected from her weeping hole as her mind went cloudy and her hands reached up to feel the mystery cock's dimensions. Nowhere in her lustful thinking were any questions of why she suddenly jumped from outrage to horny as a cat in heat in the span of two seconds.

"If you so much as swallow a drop, Mother, I'll punch you so hard you'll throw it up!" Bellatrix's voice rose sharply from above where her red well-fucked snatch perched above the cock in question. "Maybe I'll let you have a taste later but for right now this is all mine." Her black nails slithered down and lifted the turgid member off Druella's face and back into herself before a bare foot pushed on the elder woman's shoulder. Druella fell unceremoniously to the floor.

The wood and carpet were positively covered in semen. The room was like a drained pool with pearlescent puddles of baby batter splashed across every conceivable surface.

"Oh…looks like mother broke through the door." Andromeda drawled tiredly from the sitting room.

"Dromeda? What is going on here? Did this vile lizard rape all three of you?!" Free from the warm indoctrination of the assailant's phallus Druella's senses returned with a vengeance; first and foremost of them a feeling of disgust as she wiped cold congealed cum from her palms on her dress and primed her wand. "I'll string him up by his delicious testicles! I'll tease his jolly tallywacker until he just begs me to finish him off!"

"I thought the idea was to punish him…not satisfy yourself, mother." Andy yawned and sat down at the little dining table as a fresh pot of tea appeared in the center with a set of cups. "Cissy probably won't be aware for some time, this morning really took a lot out of her…"

Suddenly Orion and Cygnus burst through the door followed closely by Walburga.

"We heard a scream! What's going on? What's the matter?" Cygnus grabbed his wife by the shoulders and shook her out of her stupor. "Druella? What happened? And why are you covered in cum?"

Orion's eyes perked up at that (as did Walburga's although the former couldn't see it) and he pushed his way through the open doorway. He flew backwards out the door into a comfortable lounger beside the hearth. The door slammed shut before Bellatrix's voice bellowed from the walls themselves through the use of an augmented _sonorous_ spell.

"The next person to barge in here won't be able to reproduce when I'm through with them – man or woman! Stay out of here, mother, he's mine!"

"Well, I would say that young Harry certainly had a very _welcoming_…er, welcome to the House of Black!" Cygnus chortled and farted. Orion simply glared at his younger brother. Nothing was going according to plan…

Just then the entire assemblage turned as Narcissa stumbled bow-legged out of Andromeda's bedroom and yawned, causing the vase behind her to inflate in time with her lungs until it burst like an overripe hedgehog carcass. As she spun around at the vase's implosion a great gust of wind blew Andy's cup of tea into the older girl's face. Turning again at her sister's gasp of shock caused Cygnus to go flying down the stairs – punched his not so inconsiderable gut by an errant zephyr.

"Well at least we know the ritual worked," Andy deadpanned as she wiped tea from her bangs, "although I'm not noticing anything new myself." At that a stray wet hair gracefully swung down across the tip of her aristocratic nose and the middle Black sister sneezed.

Despite the notice-me-not charms laid against the ancestral Black Manor, the muggle neighbors couldn't help but notice when four grown men and women came flying out of an exploding fourth story of a previously non-existent building amid thunderous sonic booms and falling masonry.

The fact that all four bounced when they hit the street didn't even register as being odd until hours after the fact. Luckily, by that time Ministry Obliviators were already making their rounds.

oO0o0Oo

Albus Dumbledore was a man confused and nervous. He was not used to feeling nervous…he was a Gryffindor and Gryffindors marched boldly! But something was strange about the world now, a niggling feeling of unease that tickled his senses. Looking over the rolls of students he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of children currently crammed between the walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He seldom felt that – indeed he was usually glad for the throngs of young people learning and laughing through the halls – and it only added to his unease with the Riddle situation.

Oh, he was well aware that the former Head Boy was the self-styled 'Lord Voldemort' that the Daily Prophet made to hesitation to trumpet as the second coming of Grindlewald. Tom Riddle Jr. had always been a charismatic man; good looks and manners seemed to take him everywhere but Albus had always felt something a big crooked about the silent wizard. Nothing specifically dark, mind you, but bent – like a wand once broken but spellotaped and glamoured to look new there would always been the resulting fear that it was not whole.

Now just because he had the knowledge of Riddle did not make it simple to disclose the secret. Firstly, he doubted that any of the fanatic witches and wizards flocking to the man would believe him simply on word alone. Plus there was the fact that after his short-lived tenure at Borgin & Burke's Tom Riddle simply ceased to exist – on paper that was – making any connection between the man and his fictitious history all the more difficult to prove. Albus did not doubt that Tom had drastically changed his appearance in the long years. No, that avenue was closed.

Those thoughts invariably brought up the issue of Riddle's vassals inside Slytherin House and what damage they could do within the walls of Hogwarts. Dumbledore knew beyond any shred of doubt that Riddle desperately coveted the school and wanted to take it during his eventual rise to power, much like Grindlewald took the Reichstag in Berlin. The power of the castle was such that evil could not be tolerated but sufficient power could overwhelm even Hogwarts' defenses and leave her vulnerable to physical attack. True there were remnants of the Founders' power still at rest through the corridors and dungeons but could that protect against an army of fanatical witches and wizards? Not to mention whatever dark creatures Riddle recruited to his twisted cause?

"Albus, do you have a moment?" His new Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall's face flared to life in his private floo.

"Of course, Minerva, you may come through." He sat down behind his wide oak desk in preparation for whatever catastrophe his dear friend might bring with her and popped a lemon drop into his mouth from a small parchment-lined bowl by his left elbow.

Minerva McGonagall was also a woman unaccustomed to nervousness – she boldly marched forward regardless of whether the outcome might be unhappy or cast her/her house in a bad light – but the current situation demanded prompt action and decision that she was unable to give…at least for the moment.

"Whatever seems to be the problem," Dumbledore asked around his candy, "did you find some hidden prank our newest group 'The Marauders' left for you over the break?"

"Not…exactly, Albus, I was going over the register rolls checking for any mid-year transfers and I came across something very…unusual."

"Unusual, Minerva, unusual how? I hardly think impending transfers are anything unusual…rare, yes, but well within the bounds of commonplace."

The red-haired witch quickly rounded his desk and set down the Student Registry book, an automatically-revising tome listing all past, present, and future students of Hogwarts. Names appeared in the book as magical children were born and were erased if the child died, otherwise the name stayed in place until their 11th year when invitations were sent out to enroll. Names remained in the book after students graduated, preserving forever their matriculation at Hogwarts for the ages.

"Look here, Albus, I found them by mistake when I dropped the book – look at these names!" She flipped past the former students and past the present enrollees until her narrow fingers began flipping through blank sheets of parchment. "I cannae' understand why the names would be there and would even begin to try explaining why they're crossed out."

Abruptly she stopped and Albus immediately understood why she'd brought the situation to his attention for even he had no explanation for what lay in the middle of a blank page constantly moving upwards like clockwork in time to every birth of a magical child.

There was a bank of names slowly creeping up line-by-line in the ether of unknown unborn magical. That by itself was odd since fate would dictate that mortals should never know the future but what made Albus Dumbledore's eyebrows rise under the lip of his soft night cap was they each and every name was struck out. Heavy inky lines hurriedly zig-zagged across each name making the original writing illegible but it was clear to both professors that something had been written then obliterated. The fact that the 'names' kept creeping forward proved the errata was part of the magic of the book – also it meant that something or someone had interfered with the flow of time itself.

"As shocking as this is, Minerva, let us not get carried away. If the book has inscribed the names on its pages that means that students of Hogwarts were born, if those same names are stricken it may mean that those same 'fated' individuals were born early or late. Have you looked through the rest of the current pages?"

McGonagall's face twisted. "The pages don't stop, Albus, they just go on so I have no way of knowing."

"Either way, Minerva, either way…if they were born early we have no way of identifying them either so we are faced with a dilemma. You and I are both aware that something strange is going on but we found ourselves incapable of proving anything besides that the fates of…six, it appears…students have been altered. Take the book back to your office and tell no one what you have found. I shall speak to Algernon Croaker at the Department of Mysteries and see what light he might shed on this predicament…oaths of office not withstanding…"

"Very well, Albus, but I expect you will inform me if anything comes of it…I write the enrollment replies and invitations so I feel I am entitled to answers if you can get anything out of old Croaker, the clod was tight-lipped when I worked for The Ministry – although you might have more pull as Chief Warlock." With that she left through the door.

Dumbledore sat back heavily and brought a finger and thumb to his forehead. He knew something was going on but now that an answer appeared all it did was raise more questions.

-To be Continued-


End file.
